THE  GIFT  OF 

MAY  TREAT  MORRISON 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

ALEXANDER  F  MORRISON 

NATURE   AND    MAN 


BY    THE    SAME    AUTHOR. 

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'''^y>^?a^^^y;,'  f^A-^^  ^^  ,J^/t/97.^Z'?t'  S^,  y^^ix^^. 


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'    '.":.':>    '.'^    N 


NATURE   AND   MAN 


ESSAYS 
SCIENTIFIC  AND  PHILOSOPHICAL 


BY 

WILLIAM   B.  CARPENTER 

C.  B.,  M.  D.,  LL.  D.,  F.  R.  S. 


WITH   AN    INTRODUCTORY   MEMOIR    BY 
J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER,  M.  A. 


•  9 

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■'         J  J       J        J  i     i 

J*        J3JJ        J        J 


NEW    YORK 
D.    APPLETON     AND     COMPANY 

1889 


Authorized  Edition. 


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V 


3D 


CONTENTS. 


MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

PAGE 

I.     Early  Life      ...            ...            ...            ...            ...            .••  4 

IL     A  Student's  Preparation                ...            ...            ...  ^3 

in.     Physiology  and  Religious  Philosophy             ...           ...  3^ 

IV.    The  Correlation  of  the  Vital  and  Physical  Forces  40 

V.     Determinism  and  Self-Direction        ...            ...            ...  54 

VL     Home  Life  at  Fifty  Years            ...            ...            ...  69 

VIL     Deep-Sea  Researches  ...            ...            ...            ...            •••  88 

Vin.     Darwinism  in  England     ...            ...            ...            ...  105 

IX.    Characteristics           ...           ...           ...           .••           •••  i'3 


ESSAYS. 

L     The   Method  and  Aim   of   the   Study  of   Physiology 

(1838)  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  •••     155 

IL     The  Brain  and  its  Physiology  (1846)        ...  ...  159 

III.  The  Automatic  Execution  of  Voluntary  Movements 

(1850)  ...  ...  •••  ...  •••  •••    ^64 

IV.  The    Influence    of    Suggestion     in    modifying    and 

directing    Muscular    Movement,   independently  of 
Volition  {1852)  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  169 

V.    The  Phasis  of  Force  (1S57)      ...  ...  ...  ...     I73 


VI.     Man  the   Interpreter  of   Nature.     Presidential  Ad- 
dress at  the  British  Association,  Brighton,  1S72  185 

VII.     The  Psychology  of  Belief  (1873)  ...  ...  2U 


438093 


vl  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

VIII.    The    Fallacies    of   Testimony    in    Relation    to    the 

Supernatural  (1876)  ...  ...  ...  ...    239 


IX.     The  Doctrine  of  Human  Automatism  (1875)  ...  261 

X.     The  Limits  of  Human  Automatism  {1876)        ...  ...    284 


XL     The  Deep  Sea  and  its  Contents  (1880)     ...  ...  3^^ 


XII.     The  Force  behind  Nature  (18S0)         ...  ...  ...  35° 

XIII.  Nature  and  Law  (iSSo)     ...  ...  ...  ...  3^5 

XIV.  The  Doctrine  of  Evolution  in  its  Relations  to  Theism 

(1882)  ...  ...  ...  ...  —  ...  384 

XV.     The  Argument  from   Design   in  the  Organic  World 

(1S84)      ...  ...  ...  ...  •••  ••.  4^9 


APPENDIX. 
List  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  Writings    ...  ..•  «««  ...    467 


>  J 

>  >  >,   ^ 

>.    ,  >  ■,» 

J    1  0          J 


WILLIAM  BENJAMIN  CARPENTER. 

A   MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 


I  '    t   t    t        I  e      . 


WILLIAM  BENJAMIN  CARPENTER. 


The  Essays  contained  in  this  volume  represent  chiefly  the 
later  phases  of  their  writer's  thoughts  on  the  problems 
concerned  with  the  interpretation  of  nature  and  man. 
Some  of  the  conclusions  which  they  embody  he  believed 
to  be  of  high  importance  in  the  guidance  of  life  ;  they  were 
the  result  of  long  observation  and  reflection,  and  in  some 
cases  differed  widely  from  the  ideas  which  his  early  educa- 
tion and  his  first  studies  had  led  him  to  adopt.  It  is  the 
aim  of  this  sketch  to  indicate  some  of  the  processes  which 
contributed  to  this  change,  and  to  present,  as  briefly  as 
possible,  the  connection  between  Dr.  Carpenter's  widely 
varied  work  and  the  personality  from  which  his  many- 
sided  energy  flowed  out.  The  long  list  of  writings  which 
bear  his  name  exhibits  an  extraordinary  range  of  labour  ; 
and  the  historians  of  different  branches  of  science  will 
come  upon  the  traces  of  his  activity  in  fields  that  are  rarely 
cultivated  by  the  same  hand.  It  is  not  now  desired  to 
estimate  the  precise  value  of  his  numerous  contributions  to 
knowledge,  but  rather  to  show  what  were  the  hidden  pur- 
poses and  guiding  aims  of  his  life,  what  were  the  gifts  of 
mind  and  heart  which  he  brought  to  their  fulfilment,  and 
how  these  took  outward  shape  and  form. 


MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 


I. 


William  Benjamin  Carpenter  was  born  at  Exeter,  on 
October  29,  18 13.  His  father,  Dr.  Lant  Carpenter,  was 
then  one  of  the  pastors  of  George's  Meeting ;  but  the 
removal  of  the  family  from  Exeter  to  Bristol,  in  18 17,  when 
William  was  only  in  his  fourth  year,  made  the  latter  city 
the  true  home  of  his  early  life.  It  was  there  that  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Carpenter's  labours,  which  were  to  leave  so  deep  an 
impress  on  all  his  children,  bore  their  ripest  fruit.  Schools 
were  created  in  connection  with  the  congregation  of 
Lewin's  Mead  ;  he  took  a  prominent  share  in  the  founda- 
tion of  the  Literary  and  Philosophical  Institution  ;  he  was 
an  ardent  promoter  of  Catholic  Emancipation  and  Reform. 
This  was,  indeed,  only  the  outer  fringe  of  his  home  activities. 
To  the  work  of  his  ministry  he  added  the  long  and  patient 
toil  of  the  student,  and  the  ceaseless  diligence  of  the  teacher. 
And  the  qualities  which  shone  conspicuously  through  all 
these  phases  of  his  energy,  his  strong  affections,  his  deep 
religious  earnestness,  his  commanding  sense  of  duty,  his 
eager  zeal  for  the  public  good,  and  especially  for  education, 
appeared  in  one  after  another  of  his  family.  William  was 
his  fourth  child,  and  eldest  son.  Hardly  less  did  the  boy 
owe  to  his  mother,  a  woman  of  unusual  endowments  of 
mind  and  heart,  who  fully  shared  the  austere  and  high  view 
of  life  characteristic  of  her  Puritan  ancestry.  With  few 
advantages  of  education,  her  native  abilities  had  been, 
nevertheless,  carefully  cultivated  ;  she  had  a  vigorous  and 
independent  mind,  which  often  made  it  a  pleasure  for  the 
trained  scientific  investigator  to  ask  her  opinion  of  his  most 
advanced  speculations  ;  and  in  the  wisdom  of  her  judgment, 
springing  from  the  clear  insight  of  a  pure  and  tender  heart, 
her  children  found  again  and  again  in  their  perplexities  a 
secure  repose. 


EARLY   YEARS.  5 

To  the  education  which  he  received  under  his  father's 
superintendence,  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter  always  looked  back 
with  gratitude.  Those  who  recall  the  tall  spare  figure  and 
the  iron-grey  hair  of  his  later  years,  will  find  it  difficult  to 
think  of  him  as  a  child  of  rounded  limbs  and  golden  locks, 
who  grew  into  a  stout  and  chubby  boy.  In  the  home  dis- 
cipline no  time  was  lost.  He  used  to  say  that  he  "  knew  his 
"  Latin  grammar  at  five,"  though  the  extent  of  this  know- 
ledge was  never  defined  ;  and  he  had  already  before  that 
gained  a  firm  mastery  of  certain  external  realities,  to  which 
he  attached  the  highest  value.  In  a  discourse  delivered  in 
connection  with  University  College,  Bristol,  in  1880,  he 
recalled  one  of  these  items  of  early  acquisition. 

Our  whole  fabric  of  geometrical  knowledge  is  based  upon 
ideal  representation.  My  own  feeling  is  very  strong  diat  all 
geometrical  teaching  ought  to  be  from  time  to  time  shown  to 
consist  with  actual  objective  facts.  Going  back  to  my  own 
experience,  I  can  remember  the  fact  of  our  having  in  our 
nursery  a  box  of  cubes,  which  my  father  had  happened  to  pur- 
chase from  a  lecturer  who  was  disposing  of  some  articles  of 
the  kind.  The  box  of  cubes  was  ten  inches  each  way,  and 
each  cube  an  inch,  and  therefore  the  box  contained  a  thousand 
cubes  ;  and  this  plaything  of  our  nursery  has  been  of  the 
greatest  value  to  me  through  life,  in  giving  me  a  conception  of 
the  relation  of  solids  to  each  other,  for  I  have  found  continually 
that  young  people  who  have  learnt  and  can  repeat  glibly 
arithmetic  tables,  have  not  the  least  idea  what  these  tables 
mean.  Hence  the  importance  of  bringing  the  reasoning 
powers  of  the  mind  to  bear  upon  the  facts  which  observation 
reveals  to  us. 

This  was  one  of  the  aims  which  Dr.  Lant  Carpenter 
invariably  held  up  before  the  boys  under  his  care.  His 
school  was  remarkable  for  the  prominence  assigned  to  the 
enforcement  and  illustration  of  scientific  principles.  This 
side  of  knowledge  was  more  congenial  to  his  son  William 


6  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

than  literary  or  historical  culture.  He  acquired,  indeed,  a 
fair  mastery  of  the  classical  languages,  and  retained  to  the 
last  a  warm  affection  for  his  Greek  Testament.  But  his 
intellectual  sympathies  were  enlisted  rather  by  the  air- 
pump  and  the  geological  cabinet  than  by  Homer  or  Horace. 
He  received  a  good  grounding  in  mathematics,  and  formed 
a  strong  desire  to  become  a  civil  engineer ;  he  delighted 
(like  his  father)  in  construction  of  all  sorts.  A  tradition  still 
remains  of  a  model  of  a  ship  made  in  the  boys'  workshop 
at  the  bottom  of  the  garden  ;  while  a  maturer  effort,  in 
which  he  was  aided  by  Mr.  W.  J.  Odgers,  then  a  resident 
master  in  the  school,  produced  "  a  most  beautiful  trans- 
"  parent  instrument  for  showing  the  climates,  which,  being 
"  rectified  for  any  latitude,  shows  the  length  of  the  day  and 
"  night  at  the  solstices  and  equinoxes,  the  altitude  of  the 
"  sun  at  noon,  and  illustrates  very  well  the  reason  Avhy  the 
''days  are  longer  as  we  approach  the  higher  latitudes." 
This  love  of  workmanship  remained  with  him  in  after- 
days.  He  fitted  up  his  study  with  all  sorts  of  small  devices; 
and  he  had  a  penetrating  insight  into  the  most  intricate 
machinery.  But  he  was  never  able  to  give  effect  to  his 
early  preference  for  the  profession  of  engineering. 

The  railway  system  had  not  then  been  developed,  and  no 
suitable  opening  presented  itself  for  the  indispensable  and 
costly  training.  So  he  finally  agreed  to  submit  to  the 
wishes  of  his  family,  and  under  the  kind  proposals  of  Mr. 
Estlin,  a  leading  general  practitioner  in  Bristol,  and  a 
member  of  his  father's  congregation,*  resolved  to  devote 
himself  to  the  study  of  medicine.    His  cherished  hopes  were 

*  Mr.  Estlin  was  the  son  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Estlin,  the  predecessor  of  Dr. 
Carpenter  at  Lewin's  Mead.  He  was  a  man  of  wide  scientific  culture,  and 
frequently  lectured  at  the  Bristol  Institution  and  the  Mechanics'  Institution. 
He  was  specially  eminent  as  an  oculist  ;  and  weekly,  for  forty  years,  attended 
the  Eye-dispensary  which  he  founded.  In  later  life  he  took  a  lead  in  philan- 
thropic and  religious  movements. 


EARLY   YEARS.  7 

relinquished  for  what  seemed  to  him  an  obvious  duty, 
though  to  the  end  of  her  life  his  mother  regretted  the 
sacrifice,  and  doubted  whether  it  had  been  right  to  demand 
it.  He  set  himself  to  work  with  a  grim  determination  to 
make  the  best  of  it,  and  on  July  2,  1827,  he  wrote  to  his 
sister  Mary,  whom  he  addressed  as  "  Dear  Sister  soft  Sea- 
urchin  : " — 

I  have  been  over  to  Mr,  Estlin  for  an  hour  this  morning,  to 
learn  about  the  weights  and  measures  used  in  surgery,  and  he 
recommends  me  to  come  over  every  morning,  when  I  can  spare 
time  for  an  hour,  to  vaccinate  children,  and  to  pull  out  their 
teeth,  and  to  make  up  pills  and  medicines.  I  think  I  shall  like 
it  pretty  well. 

On  his  fifteenth  birthday,  in  1828,  he  was  formally 
apprenticed.  He  sent  a  mock  account  of  the  proceedings 
to  his  sister,  adding — 

I  am  telling  you  all  these  things  in  a  humorous  way,  but  I 
assure  you  I  felt  it  very  much ;  and  at  the  end  of  the  day,  when 
I  had  time  for  quiet  reflection,  I  formed  many  resolutions,  which 
I  hope  I  shall  have  strength  and  faith  to  carry  into  execution. 

The  beginning  of  a  professional  career  did  not,  how- 
ever, wholly  remove  him  from  the  school.  But  he  remains 
rather  to  teach  than  to  learn.  He  discourses  to  the  boys  on 
chemistry,  and  hears  his  younger  brother,  Philip,  his  Latin. 
His  mind  is  cultivated  through  the  various  lectures  at  the 
neighbouring  Institution,  and  the  books  and  reviews  which 
pass  in  turn  through  the  Reading  Society.  One  of  these 
awakens  his  early  interest  with  a  first  attempt  at  demon- 
strating the  correlation  of  the  physical  forces. 

There  is  a  book  come  into  the  society  (he  announces  to 
his  "dear  old  Poll"),  Mr.  Exley's  "  New  Theory  of  Matter," 
by  which  he  explains  all  the  attractions  of  gravitation,  cohe- 
sion, electricity — chemical,  magnetic,  etc., — upon  the  same 
principles.    Mr.  Exley  read  a  paper  at  the  Institution,  in  which 


8  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

he  gave  an  outline  of  his  theory,  which  greatly  excited  my 
curiosity  to  see  the  book. 

The  consciousness  of  power  is  increasing  within  him, 
and  the  longing  to  exercise  it.  He  is  in  his  sixteenth 
year,  and  so  in  May,  1829,  he  communicates  his  plan  to 
the  same  "  dear  old  Poll,"  -with  a  droll  touch  of  boyish 
self- justification  for  so  forward  a  step. 

I  am  thinking  about  delivering  some  lectures  on  optics  at 
the  Mechanics'  Institution  next  winter.  I  shall  be  glad  if  you 
will  give  me  your  opinion  about  it  when  you  write  next.  I 
have  paid  a  good  deal  of  attention  to  optics  lately,  and  feel 
myself  pretty  well  qualified  to  do  it,  so  far  as  information  is 
concerned.  I  am  grown  a  good  deal  during  the  past  year,  and 
look  more  of  a  man  than  I  did. 

The  manly  look,  indeed,  came  early  enough  ;  his 
speedy  absorption  in  severe  intellectual  labour  gave  to  his 
dem.eanour  a  gravity  which  caused  him  to  be  habitually 
regarded  as  older  than  he  really  was.  Moreover,  a  serious 
illness  completely  altered  his  appearance,  and  the  plump- 
ness which  he  lost  he  never  regained. 

It  was  greatly  to  William  Carpenter's  advantage  that 
while  he  Avas  prosecuting  his  medical  studies  under  Mr. 
Estlin,  and  subsequently  at  the  Bristol  Medical  School  and 
the  Infirmary,  he  remained  in  close  connection  with  the 
home  circle  in  Great  George  Street.  There  he  learned, 
under  his  father's  guidance,  to  take  an  active  interest  in 
public  affairs  ;  and  the  incidents  connected  with  the  Bristol 
riots  in  October,  1 83 1,  left  an  ineffac'eable  impression  in 
his  mind.  The  boys'  school  had  by  that  time  been  given 
up,  and  his  mother  and  sisters  had  opened  a  girls'  school 
instead.  They  felt  in  no  danger,  but  it  fell  to  him  to  escort 
a  number  of  neighbours  to  a  place  of  safety  in  Clifton, 
and  as  he  looked  back  over  the  city,  lighted  with  the 
blazing  glare  of  gaol  and  custom-house,  Mansion-house  and 


THE    WEST  INDIES.  9 

Bishop's  Palace,  he  received  a  lesson  which  he  never  forgot. 
In  the  slavery  question  he  was  also  trained  to  take  a  lively- 
interest  ;  but  his  views  on  the  subject  of  emancipation 
were  somewhat  modified  by  a  few  months'  stay  in  the 
West  Indies,  during  the  year  1833,  as  the  companion  of 
Mr,  Estlin,  whose  health  required  a  sojourn  in  a  warm 
climate. 

It  was  his  first  long  separation  from  his  family,  and  the 
closely  written  sheets  which  he  sent  back  to  England,  bore 
witness  to  the  strength  of  the  feeling  to  which  he  had  felt 
unable  at  parting  to  give  expression.  On  his  first  Sunday 
on  board  ship,  his  thoughts  go  out  with  longing  to  the  dear 
circle  singing  their  evening  hymn  in  the  library,  perhaps 
(in  remembrance  of  him)  to  one  of  his  favourite  tunes  ;  his 
minute  observations  on  sky  and  sea,  and  on  the  beautiful 
landscapes  of  St.  Vincent,  are  all  illustrated  by  familiar 
comparisons  with  objects  nearer  home.  The  estate  on 
which  he  resided  was  remarkably  well  managed,  and  he 
was  greatly  struck  with  the  physical  comfort  of  the  slaves, 
contrasted  with  their  total  want  of  mental  and  moral 
culture.  This  degradation  of  character  filled  him  with  far 
greater  horror  than  the  loss  of  personal  liberty. 

What  I  have  hitherto  seen  does  not  in  the  least  diminish, 
hut  rather  increases,  my  aversion  to  slavery ;  but  the  causes  of 
it  are  certainly  altered,  and  I  am  led  to  make  more  allowance 
for  the  planters,  when  I  sec  more  plainly  the  difficulties  by  which 
they  are  surrounded. 

To  this  experience  he  frequently  recurred  in  after-life 
when  he  was  tempted  himself,  or  saw  others  tempted,  to  a 
sternness  of  judgment  which  wider  knowledge  might  have 
modified  :  "  We  should  learn,"  he  said,  "  to  be  tolerant  of 
"others'  intolerance."  On  his  return  in  the  summer,  the 
record  of  his  observations  was  communicated  by  his  father 
to  one  of  his  Parliamentary  friends,  who  was  so  much  struck 


lo  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

by  them  that  he  sent  them  on  to  Mr.  Stanley  (afterwards 
Lord  Derby),  then  in  charge  of  the  Government  Emanci- 
pation Bill,  just  passing  through  the  House  of  Commons. 
But  the  clause  which  they  chiefly  affected  had  been  already 
adopted. 

The  medical  studies  interrupted  by  the  voyage  to  the 
West  Indies  were  resumed  for  another  session  in  Bristol  ; 
but  in  the  autumn  of  1834,  William  Carpenter  proceeded 
to  London.  There  he  attended  lectures  at  University 
College — sometimes  as  many  as  thirty-five  in  a  week — and 
medical  and  surgical  practice  at  the  Middlesex  Hospital, 
where  he  acted  for  a  time  as  clinical  clerk  to  Dr.  Watson. 
Widening  the  ordinary  range  of  professional  study,  he 
entered  for  the  course  delivered  by  Dr.  Grant  on  Compara- 
tive Anatomy  ;  and  to  this  he  afterwards  looked  back  with 
peculiar  interest,  not  only  for  the  information  which  he 
gained  through  it,  but  for  the  mental  quickening  and  special 
love  of  the  subject  which  it  roused  within  him.  In  the 
meanwhile  the  severity  of  his  studies  was  relieved  by  the 
one  pursuit  which  in  later  years  afforded  him  unfailing 
recreation,  his  music. 

You  ask  me  (he  wrote  to  his  brother  Russell)  how  I  get  on 
with  my  music.  I  consider  pretty  well,  seeing  that  I  am  entirely 
a  self-taught  genius.  My  instrument  is  a  seraphine,  which  is 
made  with  keys  like  a  piano  or  organ,  and  sounds  by  small 
reeds  like  those  of  the  mouth-asolians,  which  you  may  remember, 
only  better  tuned,  and  worked  by  bellows.  I  chose  it  in 
preference  to  a  piano,  because  it  has  exactly  the  touch  of  the 
organ,  which  it  is  my  great  ambition  some  time  or  other  to 
pUvy. 

Then  came  the  inevitable  examinations,  with  the 
natural  comments  of  a  successful  candidate,  not  perhaps 
forgotten  when  in  later  days  he  himself  sat  in  the  ex- 
aminer's chair. 


MEDICAL   STUDIES.  n 


To  R.  L.  Carpenter. 

London,  October  24,  1835. 
I  am  now  a  member  of  the  Royal  College  of  Surgeons,  and 
a  Licentiate  of  the  Apothecaries'  Company.  I  passed  through 
the  latter  examination  a  month  ago,  and  the  other  last  night. 
In  both  cases  I  had  the  felicity  of  kicking  my  heels  in  the 
waiting-room  for  more  than  five  hours,  and  you  may  suppose 
the  state  of  agitation  I  was  in  when  summoned  into  the  awful 
room.  .  .  .  The  College  was  much  the  most  awful  of  the 
two,  as  only  one  candidate  was  examined  at  a  time,  whilst  ten 
of  the  first  surgeons  in  London  were  weighing  every  word  I 
said,  sitting  at  a  long  cross-table,  so  that  all  looked  me  in  the 
face.  However,  I  did  not  see  any  of  them  through  fright, 
except  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie,  who  examined  me.  ...  It  was 
rather  curious  that  I  spent  the  last  week  before  going  up  to  the 
Hall  in  getting  up  a  quantity  of  technical  knowledge  of  which  I 
was  asked  nothing,  Avhilst  the  subject  I  was  most  questioned  on 
at  the  College  I  had  looked  over  just  before  leaving  Regent 
Street,  and  therefore  had  it  all  pat.  Indeed,  Sir  Benjamin 
Brodie  complimented  me  upon  the  attention  I  had  paid  to  the 
subject,  which  I  really  knew  little  of  compared  with  other 
points,  and  I  was  continually  afraid  lest  he  should  get  out  of 
my  depth.     So  much  does  chance  govern  affairs  of  this  kind. 

He  was  on  the  eve  of  starting  for  Edinburgh,  where 
new  companionships  were  to  be  formed,  which  would  pro- 
foundly affect  his  subsequent  course.  But  he  had  already 
his  own  plans,  for  he  confided  to  his  brother  his  intention  of 
publishing  the  next  year  a  little  work  on  the  philosophical 
study  of  Natural  History.  And  he  had  just  received  what 
was  to  be  one  of  the  most  powerful  and  enduring  of  the 
intellectual  impulses  of  his  whole  life.  It  was  a  somewhat 
curious  coincidence  that  it  should  come  indirectly  through 
the  American  philanthropist  whose  recent  visit  to  Bristol 
had  so  deeply  stirred  his  sister  Mary.* 

*  See  the  "Life  and  Work  of  Mary  Carpenter,"  chap.  ii. 


12  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

I  had  a  pleasing  little  pigmis  from  Dr.  Tuckerman  lately 
(he  wrote  to  his  brother  Russell,  in  the  letter  just  quoted),  as 
he  desired  my  father  to  lay  out  a  sovereign  owed  by  him  to 
Dr.  Tuckerman  in  a  book  for  me.  I  chose  Lyell's  "  Geology." 
I  have  been  much  interested  in  reading  his  third  book  "  On  the 
Distribution  of  the  Animal  Kingdom." 

To  this  treatise  he  ever  afterwards  felt  himself  most 
deeply  indebted.  In  returning  thanks  for  the  Lyell  medal, 
which  was  awarded  to  him  in  1 88 3,  in  recognition  of  the 
value  of  his  investigations  into  the  minute  structure  of 
various  fossil  Invertebrates,  and  his  deep-sea  researches,  he 
thus  referred  to  this  early  influence  : — 

This  distinction  is  yet  more  gratifying  to  me  from  its  having 
been  founded  by  one  whom  I  have  held  in  the  highest  honour 
from  my  boyhood,  when  (as  I  well  remember)  I  heard  Charles 
Lyell  spoken  of  as  a  young  man  who  was  advancing  in  the 
Geological  Society  doctrines  of  a  most  heretical  kind,  but  was 
defending  them  so  ably  as  to  hold  his  own  against  the  most 
weighty  opponents.  The  study  of  his  "  Principles  "  was  not 
only  the  delight  of  my  youth,  but  a  most  valuable  part  of  my 
scientific  training ;  and  the  privilege  of  subsequent  intercourse 
with  him  through  nearly  forty  years  was  one  which  I  ever 
highly  esteemed  ;  for  whilst  it  brought  me  under  the  immediate 
influence  of  his  philosophic  spirit,  it  also  afforded  me  the 
continual  stimulus  of  his  kindly  encouragement.  I  would 
recall  a  litde  incident  which  is  doubly  illustrative.  When,  in 
1855,  I  made  my  monograph  of  the  genus  Orbitolites  the  basis 
of  a  disquisition  on  the  general  subject  of  the  variability  of 
species  (a  doctrine  impressed  on  me  by  Dr.  Prichard),  I  sent 
him  a  copy  of  the  memoir  (published  in  the  "  Philosophical 
Transactions  "),  with  a  sort  of  apology  for  having  tried  to  make 
so  much  out  of  what  might  be  thought  so  small  and  trivial  a 
subject ;  he  replied  with  a  most  kindly  approval  of  the  object 
and  manner  of  my  work,  adding  "  any  single  point  is  really  the 
universe," — a  remark  whose  pregnancy  left  an  impression  on  my 
mind  that  time  has  only  deepened. 

Beside  the  influence  of  Lyell's  "  Principles  "  must  be  set 


RESIDENCE   AT  EDINBURGH.  13 

that  of  another  writer  no  less  eminent,  Sir  John  Herschel, 
whose  "PreHminary  Discourse  on  the  Study  of  Natural 
Philosophy"  contributed  another  potent  element  to  the 
formation  of  William  Carpenter's  intellectual  character. 
Just  before  his  departure  from  London  to  Edinburgh,  at 
the  end  of  October,  1835,  he  wrote  to  his  parents — 

I  quite  agree  with  you  in  all  your  feelings  respecting  the 
valuable  influence  of  my  stay  here  upon  me.  I  feel,  however, 
that  the  high  standard  I  have  set  myself  of  intellectual  ex- 
cellence is  no  small  assistance  to  religious  principle;  and  I 
should  say  that  I  have  derived  more  benefit  in  a  moral  point  of 
view  from  Sir  John  Herschel's  book  than  from  any  other  than 
my  Bible. 


II. 

To  his  residence  at  Edinburgh,  William  Carpenter 
always  looked  back  afterwards  with  deep  and  abiding 
pleasure.  He  formed  there  some  of  the  most  valued  of  his 
friendships  ;  he  laid  the  foundations  of  some  of  his  most 
fruitful  work ;  he  felt  a  more  vivid  mental  stimulus 
from  the  society  around  him  than  he  had  found  in  London ; 
and  he  gained  a  heightened  confidence  in  his  powers.  He 
carried  with  him  letters  to  some  of  the  most  eminent 
teachers  of  the  University,  and  the  leaders  of  the  literary 
and  scientific  coteries  of  the  Northern  Athens.  One  of  his 
first  visits  was  paid  to  Professor  Wilson,  who  had  been  a 
class-mate  of  Dr.  Lant  Carpenter's,  at  Glasgow.  The 
following  account  of  it '  in  due  time  found  its  way  to 
Bristol : — 

Edinburgh,  November  15,  1835. 
I  was  not  a  little  astonished  to  be  introduced  to  a  very  wild- 
looking  man,  with  a  velveteen  shooting-coat,  and  his  hair  stray- 
ing down  his  shoulders  in  all  directions,  looking  as  little  as 
possible  like  a  professor  of  moral  philosophy.  ...  On  a  little 


14  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

conversation,  he  discovered  me  to  be  the  son  of  his  old  fellow- 
student,  and  we  began  to  talk  about  Dr.  Blair,  with  whom  he 
keeps  up  a  correspondence.  He  subsequently  asked  me  to 
dinner,  where  I  met  Taylor  (author  of  "Philip  van  Something"), 
who  was  the  lion  of  the  last  London  season.  Professors  Pillans 
and  Muir,  and  some  more  intelligent  men.  Wilson  and  Taylor 
had  some  interesting  conversation  on  Wordsworth,  which  would 
have  delighted  Mary.  Both  seemed  to  think  him  too  minute 
in  describing  nature,  and  that  he  has  been  very  much  soured 
by  his  early  want  of  success.  They  also  began  to  discuss  the 
various  translations  of  "  Faust^,"  and,  the  conversation  turning  on 
Goethe  in  general,  I  was  able  to  edge  in  a  word  as  to  his  having 
been  the  first  propounder  of  the  doctrine  of  morphology  in 
plants.  Professor  Muir  and  I  fell  out  about  the  date  of  this 
production.  I  set  it  as  far  back  as  1795,  but  allowed  that  it 
was  not  noticed  until  at  least  fifteen  years  later.  Professor  Muir 
was  positive  that  it  was  not  more  than  twenty  years  ago.  I,  of 
course,  yielded,  but  had  the  satisfaction  when  I  returned  home, 
on  referring  to  Lindley,  to  see  that  it  was  1790. 

Many  friendly  houses  were  soon  open  to  the  young 
Bristol  student,  who  found  more  sympathy  with  his  heresy 
than  he  expected  ;  for  he  wrote  shortly  after  :  "  As  far  as  I 
"  have  seen,  the  moderate  party  of  the  Scotch  Church  are 
"  extremely  liberal,  and  I  believe  that  many  of  them  are 
"Unitarians  at  the  bottom."  But  he  was  astonished  at  the 
superior  freedom  from  conventional  restraints  which  marked 
the  education  of  women  ;  and  though  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  see  his  own  sisters  trained  in  the  principles  of 
science,  and  familiar  with  the  fossils  or  the  shells  in  their 
own  cabinet,  yet  an  extension  of  the  same  method  of 
education  caused  him  an  amusing  shock. 

The  tone  of  society  (he  wrote  to  his  father)  is  certainly  much 
more  well-informed  here  than  in  London.  At  least,  there  is  less 
reserve  among  the  ladies  with  regard  to  scientific  pursuits,  which 
many  pursue  here  to  an  extent  which  even  I  think  hardly  femi- 
nine ;    such    as  practical   (hammer-in-hand)  geology,  practical 


RESIDENCE  AT  EDINBURGH.  15 

chemistry  in  classes— a  row  of  young  ladies  performing  experi- 
ments all  at  the  same  time,  like  a  company  of  soldiers  going 
through  the  exercise. 

The  subject  remained  in  his  mind,  for  he  recurred  to  it 
a  few  weeks  later  : — 

I  should  be  very  sorry  to  see  women  restraining  their 
natural  feelings  by  reason  and  philosophy  as  much  as  men  ought 
to  do.  I  have  often  been  afraid  myself  lest  too  close  attention 
to  scientific  subjects  should  blunt  my  natural  feelings ;  and  I 
should  think  that  the  new-fashioned  system  of  female  education 
might  be  in  danger  of  making  the  pupils  too  much  matter-of- 
fact. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival  in  Edinburgh,  William  Carpenter 
joined  the  Medical  Society,  formed  in  connection  with  the 
University,  and  at  once  began  to  take  an  active  part  in  its 
debates.  "  I  find  it  exceedingly  useful,"  he  said,  in  writing 
home  ;  "  and  in  nothing  more  so  than  in  showing  me  my 
"  deficiencies,  for  I  find  many  here  who  in  purely  professional 
"  knowledge  are  far  before  me."  His  mind  at  this  time  pre- 
ferred to  dwell  on  large  and  general  conceptions,  to  discover 
analogies,  to  follow  out  principles,  rather  than  to  come  into 
close  contact  with  actual  facts.  He  was  capable,  as  many 
of  his  subsequent  writings  showed,  of  minute  and  laborious 
investigations  ;  and  he  could  marshal  details  with  singular 
skill  as  soon  as  he  could  reduce  them  into  classes.  But 
though  his  memory  was  well-trained  and  retentive,  it  did 
not  easily  assimilate  much  of  the  material  presented  to 
him  in  the  lecture-room,  or  prescribed  for  an  examination. 
When  the  news  reaches  him  of  the  college  successes  of  his 
younger  brothers,  Russell  and  Philip,  "Alas,  poor  me!"  he 
exclaims  (July  4,  1836),  "  I  seem  doomed  to  get  no  prizes." 
But  he  adds  :  "  However,  it  does  not  make  me  despair  of 
"  myself,  for  I  feel  a  good  deal  more  confidence  in  my  powers, 
"  if  I  have  strength  to  exert  them,  than  I  have  ever  done ; 


i6  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

"  and,  I  believe  I  may  say,  a  well-grounded  confidence." 
Three  weeks  later  he,  too,  can  announce  an  addition  to  the 
family  honours  :  "  I  had  the  pleasure  this  morning  of  re- 
"  ceiving  a  gold  medal  as  a  prize  for  an  essay  on  a  depart- 
"  ment  of  Physiological  Botany." 

By  this  time  he  had  fairly  entered  on  the  labours  of 
authorship.  These  were  not  indeed  lightly  undertaken. 
His  home-training  had  impressed  him  with  a  serious  and 
steadfast  purpose ;  and  while  circumstances  had  led  him  to 
the  profession  of  medicine,  in  which  he  had  no  expectation 
of  special  success,  he  had  embraced  the  study  of  science 
with  a  vivid  moral  ardour  which  gave  it,  for  him,  the  force 
of  a  vocation.  This  vocation  he  sedulously  nourished  ;  he 
threw  into  it  the  whole  power  of  his  being.  The  life  of 
Kepler  awakened  in  him  an  eager  and  enthusiastic  devo- 
tion ;  and  he  recurred  to  it  again  and  again  long  afterwards 
as  a  support  in  protracted  and  perplexing  inquiries.  A 
collection  of  passages  from  the  works  of  Herschel,  Whewell, 
Mrs.  Somerville,  Channing,  and  other  writers,  entered  in 
his  commonplace-book,  reveals  some  of  the  guiding  motives 
of  his  thought ;  one  of  these,  to  which  he  often  referred 
through  half  a  century  of  teaching  and  research,  is  here 
subjoined.  It  was  derived  from  a  Lecture  on  Universal 
History  by  Schiller,  with  whose  life  and  spirit  he  was  ac- 
quainted through  the  pages  of  Carlyle. 

Just  as  sedulously  as  the  trader  in  knowledge  severs  his  own 
peculiar  science  from  all  others,  does  the  lover  of  wisdom  strive 
to  extend  its  dominion  and  restore  its  connection  with  them.  I 
say  to  restore,  for  the  boundaries  which  divide  the  sciences 
are  but  the  work  of  abstraction.  What  the  empiric  separates, 
the  philosopher  unites.  He  has  early  come  into  the  conviction 
that  in  the  dominion  of  the  intellect,  as  in  the  world  of  matter, 
everything  is  linked  and  commingled,  and  his  eager  longing  for 
universal  harmony  and  agreement  cannot  be  satisfied  by  frag- 
ments.    All  his  efforts  are  directed  to  the  perfecting  of  his 


A   BOOK  PROJECTED.  17 

knowledge ;  his  noble  impatience  cannot  be  restrained  till  all 
his  conceptions  have  arranged  themselves  into  one  harmonious 
whole,  till  he  stands  at  the  central  point  of  arts  and  sciences, 
and  thence  overlooks  the  whole  extent  of  their  dominion  with 
a  satisfied  glance.     New  discoveries  in  the  field  of  his  activhy, 
which  depress  the  trader  in  science,  enrapture  the  philosopher. 
Perhaps  they  fill  a  chasm  which  the  growth  of  his  ideas  had 
rendered  more  wide  and  unseemly,  or  they  place  the  last  stone, 
the  only  one  wanting  to  the  completion  of  the  structure  of  his 
ideas.     But  even  should  they  shiver  it  into  ruins — should  a  new 
series  of  ideas,  a  new  aspect  of  nature,  a  newly  discovered  law  in 
the  physical  world,  overthrow  the  whole  fabric  of  his  knowledge, 
he  has  akvays  loved  truth  better  than  his  system,  and  gladly  will  he 
exchange  her  old  and  defective  form  for  a  new  and  fairer  one. 
Under  such  intellectual  impulses  as  these,  he  had  con- 
ceived the  idea,  while  still  only  in  his  twenty-second  year, 
of  a  work  which   should  serve  as  an   introduction  to  the 
philosophical  study  of  Natural  History.     The  treatises  of 
the  day  appeared  to  him  deficient  in  grasp  of  the  underlying 
principles  of  physiological  science  ;    they  were  filled  with 
facts  and  observations  which  were  sometimes  ill  understood, 
because  their  true  relations  were  only  imperfectly  appre- 
hended.    He  boldly  grappled  with  the  difhculty,  and  re- 
solved to  aim  at  nothing  less  than  a  general  view  of  the 
entire  realm  of  organic  nature,  so  as  to  set  forth  the  funda- 
mental laws  which  might  be  discerned  in  the  life  alike  of 
plants  and  animals.     His  thoughts  had  been  playing  round 
special  questions  in  this  wide  domain  as  far  back  as  his 
voyage   to   the   West   Indies.      The  subject    haunted    him 
during  the  session  which  he  spent  at  University  College, 
and  rose  into  a  positive  though  immature  design.     His  first 
printed  paper,  published  before  he  left  London,  in  the  West 
of  England  Journal,  October,  1835,  dealt  with  "The  Structure 
and  Functions  of  the  Organs  of  Respiration  in  the  Animal 
and  Vegetable  Kingdoms."*     Starting  from  the  recognized 
*  It  was  continued  in  January,  1836. 


1 8  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

facts  of  chemistry,  comparative  anatomy,  and  physiology, 
he  dwelt  at  length  on  the  analogy  between  the  forms  of 
the  respiratory  apparatus  in  the  two  great  classes ;  he 
showed  that  it  held  good  with  regard  to  their  functions 
also,  and  he  even  extended  it  to  digestion.  Nor  did  he  fail 
to  point  out  the  simplicity  and  uniformity  of  the  processes 
into  which  these  apparently  complicated  phenomena  might 
be  resolved,  and  the  similarity  of  the  means  by  which  they 
were  carried  into  effect. 

The  theme  thus  started  continued  to  occupy  his  mind 
while  he  was  pursuing  his  professional  studies  at  Edinburgh, 
in  the  University  and  the  Infirmary,  under  Professors  Alison 
and  Christison.  Immediately  after  his  arrival,  he  had  re- 
ported to  his  sisters,  in  November,  1835,  the  actual  com- 
mencement of  his  cherished  project. 

I  have  begun  to  work  at  my  book,  and  have  nearly  finished 
the  organs  of  support,  in  which  I  shall  bring  forward  a  number 
of  most  beautiful  analogies  which  Roget  has  omitted  from 
his  evident  ignorance  of  Vegetable  Physiology.  I  shall  read  it 
soon  as  a  paper  at  the  Royal  Medical  Society,  of  which  I  am 
a  member.  I  think  these  debates  will  be  of  great  service  to  me, 
as  they  evidently  are  of  a  very  high  character. 

This  central  idea,  accordingly,  runs  through  the  essays 
of  the  next  few  years,  which  contain  the  germs  of  various 
biological  principles  destined  to  receive  clearer  enuncia- 
tion afterwards  from  himself  and  others.  In  the  summer 
of  1836,  he  is  already  in  communication  with  Dr.  (sub- 
sequently Sir  John)  Forbes,  who  had  enrolled  him  among 
the  contributors  to  the  recently  established  British  and 
Foreign  Medical  Reviezv.  Dr.  Forbes  had  entrusted  to  him 
a  number  of  new  books  on  vegetable  physiology ;  but  the 
reviewer  told  his  father  (July  4,  1836)  that  his  essay  would 
be  "principally  devoted  to  pointing  out  the  analogies 
"between  animals  and  vegetables,  and  the  advantages  of 


THE   STUDY   OF  PHYSIOLOGY.  19 

"studying  general  physiology  or  the  most  universal  laws  of 
"life,  before  applying  to  any  particular  branch."  This  pur- 
pose was  thus  vindicated  in  the  article,  which  did  not 
appear  until  July,  1837. 

We  should  be  glad  to  see  the  science  of  physiology  based 
upon  a  more  extensive  generalization  of  the  phenomena  of 
vitality  than  has  usually  been  thought  necessary  :  the  study  of 
comparative  anatomy  is  now  recognized  as  the  surest  means 
of  arriving  at  accurate  results  on  many  disputed  questions, 
since  the  different  forms  of  animals  may  be  regarded,  to  use 
the  language  of  Cuvier,  as  "  so  many  kinds  of  experiments 
"ready  prepared  by  Nature."  Vegetables  present  us  with  a 
greater  simplification  of  the  vital  functions  than  is  afforded  by 
the  lowest  animal,  since  all  the  changes  necessary  to  the  sup 
port  of  the  individual  and  the  continuance  of  the  species  are 
performed  without  the  influence  or  interference  of  those  powers 
which  are  possessed  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  by  the  whole 
animal  kingdom.  Hence  the  physiologist  may  advantageously 
resort  to  the  study  of  vegetable  life  for  the  explanation  of  many 
of  the  proximate  causes  of  those  phenomena  which  are  com- 
plicated in  the  higher  forms  of  organized  beings  by  so  great 
a  variety  of  secondary  influences. 

The  purpose  here  implied  received  further  illustration 
in  two  essays,  produced  in  March  and  April,  1837,  on 
"  The  Voluntary  and  Instinctive  Actions  of  Living  Beings," 
and  on  "  The  Unity  of  Function  in  Organized  Beings."  In 
the  first  of  these,  William  Carpenter  (who  had  now  become 
President  of  both  the  Royal  Medical  and  the  Royal  Physi- 
cal Societies)  sought  a  common  ground  of  action  in  the 
irritability  or  contractility  which  he  recognized  as  a  vital 
property  of  vegetable  tissues  equally  with  those  of 
animals.  But  the  paper  was  further  remarkable  for  its 
analysis  of  the  functions  of  the  nervous  system  in  the  higher 
vertebrates,  in  which  the  writer  opened  a  path  for  his  future 
researches  in  "  mental  physiology."  The  second  paper  was 
designed  to  apply  \.o  fitnction  one  of  the  laws  propounded 


20  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

by  Von  Baer  with  regard  to  structure, — "  a  special  function 
"  arises  only  out  of  one  more  general,  and  this  by  a  gradual 
"  change  ; "  to  which  the  Edinburgh  student  added  another, 
— "  in  all  cases  where  the  different  functions  are  highly 
"specialized,  the  general  structure  retains,  more  or  less,  the 
"primitive  community  of  function  which  originally  charac- 
"terized  it."  In  working  out  these  principles,  the  writer 
sketched  "  an  outline  of  the  doctrine  of  unity  of  function 
"  with  regard  to  the  changes  essential  to  the  maintenance  of 
"individual  organisms,  both  of  plants  and  animals  ;"  and 
finally  expressed  his  belief  that  "even  in  tracing  the  gradual 
"  development  of  the  functions  peculiar  to  animals,  namely, 
"sensation  and  voluntary  motion,  we  may  find  that  the 
"  special  type  is  evolved  from  one  more  general." 

After  reading  these  papers  before  the  Royal  Medical 
Society,  William  Carpenter  returned  to  Bristol.  He  had 
already  lectured  in  Edinburgh,  on  Natural  History,  making 
his  appearance,  on  one  occasion,  to  his  extreme  disgust,  at 
Wombwell's  menagerie,  where  he  was  expected,  in  ac- 
cordance with  a  precedent  set  by  a  former  lecturer — "  like 
"  myself,  very  respectable  " — to  meet  his  class  before  the 
cages  of  the  wild-beast  show.  He  had  now  to  deliver  his 
first  course  as  lecturer  on  Medical  Jurisprudence  at  the 
Bristol  Medical  School,  and  he  began  at  the  same  time  the 
actual  practice  of  his  profession.  His  leisure  hours,  how- 
ever, were  devoted  to  his  scientific  pursuits,  and  he  became 
a  competitor  for  the  Students'  Prize,  raised  by  the  students, 
and  adjudged  by  certain  of  the  Professors  at  Edinburgh. 
The  subject  (proposed  by  Professor  Alison)  was  highly 
congenial  to  him,  "  On  the  Difference  of  the  Laws  regulating 
Vital  and  Physical  Phenomena."  *  In  language  v/hose 
clearness  showed  how  clearly  he  had  already  trained  him- 

*  His  essay  proved  successful;  he  devoted  the  prize  (;,^3o)  to  the  purchase 
of  a  microscope,  and  from  that  time  microscopic  research  continued  to  absorb 
more  and  more  of  his  attention. 


VITAL    AND   PHYSICAL  PHENOMENA.  21 

self  to  think,  he  laid  down  the  meaning  of  the  word  law^ 
and  its  place  in  science. 

The  term  laiv  expresses  the  conditions  of  action  of  the  pro- 
perties of  matter.  In  our  study  of  the  phenomena  of  nature, 
it  is  our  object  to  ascertain  their  laws  by  the  inquiry  into  the 
conditions  under  which  the  occurrences  present  themselves ; 
and  a  law  deduced  from  this  source  is  nothing  more  than 
a  general  expression  of  the  conditions  common  to  a  certain 
class  of  phenomena,  leading  us  to  the  belief  that  under  the 
same  conditions  the  same  phenomena  will  constantly  occur. 
When  this  is  found  to  be  the  case  by  the  experimental  applica- 
tion of  the  law  to  unknown  cases,  the  law  is  said  to  be  verified, 
and  it  may  then  fairly  rank  as  a  general  fact  to  be  included  with 
others  of  like  standing  in  a  still  higher  expression  of  the  condi- 
tions common  to  all  these,  and  therefore  to  all  the  particular 
instances  included  in  them.  By  successive  generalizations  of 
this  nature,  we  aim  to  ascend  from  the  most  complicated  and 
restricted  to  the  most  simple  and  universal  statement  of  the 
phenomena  of  the  universe  ;  and  in  so  far  as  this  is  attained 
in  every  science,  giving  us  the  means  not  only  of  explaining 
new  phenomena  as  they  arise,  but  of  predicting  otherwise 
unexpected  occurrences,  that  science  may  be  regarded  as 
perfect. 

Starting  from  this  view  of  Law,  the  essayist  affirmed 
(in  words  afterwards  quoted  by  Dr.  Roget,  in  his  article, 
"  Physiology,"  in  the  "  Encyclopaedia  Britannica ")  that 
"  there  is  nothing  essentially  different  in  the  character  oi  the 
"  laws  regulating  vital  and  physical  phenomena,  either  as  to 
"  their  comprehensiveness,  their  uniformity  of  action,  or  the 
"  mode  in  which  they  are  to  be  established  by  the  general- 
"ization  of  particular  facts."  He  recognized  a  practical  dis- 
tinction between  the  properties  of  inorganic  matter  and 
those  of  living  organized  matter ;  but  he  declared  that 
"  the  properties  of  any  aggregation  of  matter  depend  upon 
"the  method  in  which  its  ultimate  molecules  are  combined 
"and  arranged;"  that  "the  vital  properties  of  organized 


22  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

"  tissues  are  not  less  the  result  of  their  material  constitu- 
"  tion  ; "  and  that  "  vital  properties  are  not  added  to  matter 
"  in  the  process  of  organization ;  but  those  previously  existing 
"  and  hitherto  inactive  are  called  out  and  developed."  He 
ventured,  therefore,  on  the  speculation  that  "the  vital  and 
"  physical  properties  of  matter  may  ultimately  be  shown  to 
"  result  from  some  higher,  more  general  quality  ;  an  advance 
"  in  the  path  of  philosophy,  should  it  ever  be  proved,  far 
"  beyond  any  which  has  been  already  attained,  or  which  we 
*'  have  in  immediate  prospect." 

The  same  thought  is  developed  in  an  article  published 
in  the  British  and  Foreign  Medical  Review,  in  April,  1838, 
entitled  "  Physiology  an  Inductive  Science,"  criticizing  the 
portion  of  Dr.  Whewell's'-'History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences," 
which  relates  to  that  subject.  A  few  passages  from  this 
essay,  which  was  much  admired  at  the  time,  will  be  found 
on  a  later  page  of  this  volume.*  They  strike  the  keynote 
of  much  of  his  subsequent  "  Philosophy  of  Nature." 

Side  by  side  with  this  article,  in  the  same  number  of  the 
Revieiv,  stood  another  from  the  same  busy  pen,  more  than 
fifty  pages  in  length,  on  "  The  Physiology  of  the  Spinal 
Marrow."  It  contained  a  full  treatment  of  the  doctrine  of 
reflex  action,  then  recently  propounded  as  new  by  Dr. 
Marshall  Plall;  and  it  was  generally  accepted  by  competent 
judges  as  a  fair  statement  of  the  aspect  which  the  question 
presented  at  that  date,  though  it  did  not  give  satisfaction 
to  Dr.  Hall.  The  author  was  recognized  as  having  placed 
the  discussion  upon  a  broader  basis,  as  regards  both  the 
general  doctrines  of  the  Physiology  of  the  nervous  system 
and  their  history,  than  that  to  which  Dr.  Hall  had  been 
himself  disposed  to  restrict  it. 

Such  were  the  preliminary  labours  by  which  the  young 
man  of  twenty-four  prepared  for  the   accomplishment  of 

*  See  p.   155. 


THE   FIRST  BOOK.  33 

his  long- cherished  design.  He  was  now  anxious  to  get  a 
lectureship,  which  might  enable  him  to  devote  himself 
unreservedly  to  the  pursuit  of  Physiology.  The  Bristol 
meeting  of  the  recently  established  British  Association  for 
the  Advancement  of  Science,  in  1836,  had  brought  him  into 
connection  with  the  leading  men  of  various  departments. 
Dr.  Forbes  proved  a  most  kind  and  faithful  promoter  of 
his  advance.  In  the  spring  of  1838  he  tells  his  brother 
Russell  that  he  has  been  to  London  to  ascertain  the  proba- 
bility of  his  getting  an  appointment  as  teacher  of  his 
favourite  science,  and  that  Sir  James  Clarke,  Principal 
Physician  to  the  Queen,  is  interesting  himself  much  in  his 
prospects.  And  he  adds,  "  By  the  advice  of  my  friends,  I 
"  am  now  working  vigorously  at  my  book  on  '  General  and 
"Comparative  Physiology,'  for  publication  in  the  autumn." 
To  this  task  he  now  girded  himself  up  in  earnest.  It 
was  a  bold  attempt  for  so  young  a  man,  for  it  aimed  at 
surveying  the  entire  field  of  what  is  now  termed  Biology. 
He  described  it  himself  as  an  introduction  to  the  study  of 
human  physiology,  and  a  guide  to  the  philosophical  pursuit 
of  natural  history.  Its  enormous  range — for  it  began  with 
a  description  of  the  whole  animated  world — made  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  have  himself  verified  the  statements 
which  he  was  obliged  to  take  on  trust.  Its  originality  lay 
rather  in  the  effort  which  it  made  to  view  the  science  of 
life  as  a  unity,  and  lay  down  some  simple  and  universal 
laws.  Looking  back  upon  it  from  the  more  advanced 
position  of  a  quarter  of  a  century  later,  the  author  said  of 
it,  that  the  novelty  of  its  plan  and  the  general  merits  of  its 
execution  obtained  for  it  a  more  favourable  reception  than 
might  have  been  justified  by  a  severe  scrutiny  ;  his  know- 
ledge had  been  drawn  rather  from  books  than  from  nature  ; 
he  had  systematized  the  facts  collected  by  others,  rather 
than  added  to  the  store  by  independent  research.    Yet  ever 


2d  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

in  its  first  crudity  he  believed  that  the  work  was  of  service 
in  giving  a  scientific  direction  to  the  studies  of  others,  just 
as  the  preparation  of  it  had  consoHdated  his  own.  In  sub- 
sequent editions  it  was  entirely  re-written,  enlarged,  and 
modified.  Two  thoughts  may  here,  however,  be  named, 
for  the  sake  of  their  bearing  on  his  future  views.  Doctrines 
of  "  progressive  development  "  and  evolution  were  already 
vaguely  in  the  air ;  and  he  applied  them  to  the  evolution 
of  structure  in  the  following  passage  : — 

In  the  early  stages  of  formation  in  every  animal  or  vegetable, 
we  may  observe  as  great  a  dissimilarity  to  its  ultimate  condition 
as  exists  between  the  lower  and  higher  members  of  each  kingdom. 
And  if  we  watch  the  progress  of  evolution,  we  may  trace  a  cor- 
respondence between  that  of  the  germ  in  its  advance  towards 
maturity,  and  that  exhibited  by  the  permanent  conditions  of  the 
races  occupying  different  parts  of  the  ascending  scale  of  creation. 
This  correspondence  results  from  the  operation  of  the  same  law 
in  both  cases.  If  we  compare  the  forms  which  the  same  organ 
presents  in  different  parts  of  the  series,  we  shall  always  observe 
that  it  exists  in  its  most  general  or  diffused  form  in  the  lowest 
classes,  and  in  its  most  special  and  restricted  in  the  highest,  and 
that  the  transition  from  one  form  to  the  other  is  a  gradual  one. 

Secondly,  he  criticized  the  principle  which  Cuvier  and 
other  writers  had  endeavoured  to  erect  into  a  law,  under 
the  name  of  the  "  harmony  of  forms."  It  implied  that  there 
was  a  specific  plan,  not  only  for  the  formation,  but  for  the 
combination  of  organs  ;  that  there  was  a  constant  harmony 
between  organs  apparently  the  most  remote,  and  that  the 
altered  form  of  one  was  invariably  attended  with  a  corres- 
ponding alteration  in  the  others.  But,  argued  William 
Carpenter — 

A  little  consideration  will  show  that  the  existence  of  this 
adaptation  of  parts  is  nothing  more  than  a  result  of  other  laws 
of  development.  It  is  evident  that  if  it  were  deficient,  the  race 
must  speedily  become  extinct,  the  conditions  of  its  existence 


EVOLUTION  AND   DESIGN.  25 

being  no  longer  fulfilled  ;  these  conditions  being,  for  the  whole 
organism,  what  the  vital  stimuli  already  described  are  for  its  in- 
dividual properties.  .  .  .  The  statement  above  given  cannot, 
therefore,  be  regarded  as  a  latu^  since  it  is  nothing  more  than 
the  expression,  in  an  altered  form,  of  the  fact  that  as  the  life  of 
an  organized  being  consists  in  the  performance  of  a  series  of 
actions,  which  are  dependent  on  one  another,  and  all  directed 
to  the  same  end,  whatever  seriously  interferes  with  any  of  those 
actions  must  be  incompatible  with  the  maintenance  of  existence. 

Thus  was  a  young  naturalist  already  feeling  after  the 
doctrine  afterwards  to  be  formulated  as  the  "  survival  of 
"the  fittest."  The  principle  implied  in  his  view  led  im- 
mediately to  a  striking  modification  in  the  doctrine  of 
design,  as  it  had  been  taught  since  the  days  of  Paley. 

Those  who  have  dwelt  most  upon  this  adaptation  of  the 
structure  of  living  beings  to  the  external  conditions  in  which 
they  exist,  appear  to  have  forgotten  that  these  very  conditions 
might  be  regarded  with  just  as  much  propriety  as  specially 
adapted  to  the  support  of  living  beings.  We  have  as  much 
ground  to  believe  that  this  earth,  with  all  its  varieties  of  season, 
temperature,  light,  moisture,  etc.,  was  adjusted  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  plants  and  animals  upon  its  surface,  as  that  these 
plants  and  animals  were  created  in  accordance  with  its  pre- 
existing circumstances.  The  Natural  Philosopher  does  not 
regard  it  as  a  sufficient  explanation  of  the  astronomical  or 
meteorological  changes  which  he  witnesses,  that  they  are  for  the 
benefit  of  the  living  inhabitants  of  the  globe,  and  yet,  as  it  has 
been  already  shown,  they  furnish  conditions  of  vital  action  as 
important  as  those  afforded  by  organized  structure.  The  Philo- 
sophical Anatomist,  therefore,  does  not  regard  the  object  or 
function  of  a  particular  structure  as  a  sufficient  account  of  its 
existence ;  but  in  attaining  the  laws  of  its  formation  in- 
dependently of  any  assumption  of  an  end,  he  really  exhibits 
the  primary  design  in  a  much  higher  character,  than  in  de- 
ducing it  from  any  limited  results  of  its  operation. 

Shortly  after  the  publication  of  this  treatise,  William 
Carpenter  proceeded  to  Edinburgh,  where  an  alteration  in 


26  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

the  University  regulations  enabled  him  to  graduate  by  three 
months'  additional  residence.  Once  more  on  the  students' 
bench,  in  the  winter  of  1839,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing 
his  book  quoted  in  class  with  high  approval  by  the  Professor. 
There,  moreover,  he  renewed  old  friendships,  and  took  his 
place  again  at  the  meetings  of  the  Royal  Medical  Society, 
to  which  he  read  the  dissertation  afterwards  sent  in  for  his 
degree  of  Doctor  of  Medicine.  He  chose  for  his  subject 
"  The  Physiological  Inferences  to  be  deduced  from  the 
Structure  of  the  Nervous  System  of  Invertebrated  Ani- 
mals." Like  his  earlier  productions,  this  was  based  less  upon 
results  of  original  anatomical  or  experimental  inquiry,  than 
upon  facts  already  determined.  But  he  gave  a  fresh  inter- 
pretation of  these  facts :  he  .showed  that  the  doctrines 
hitherto  taught  by  Dr.  Grant  and  Mr.  Newport,  for  example, 
were  inconsistent  with  them  ;  and  he  proceeded  to  apply  to 
the  nervous  systems  of  articulated  and  molluscous  animals 
the  principles  of  reflex  action,  of  which  he  had  already  else- 
where discussed  the  higher  forms.  His  views  were  at  once 
adopted  by  Professor  Owen  and  other  eminent  physiolo- 
gists. Mr.  Newport,  indeed,  at  first  contested  them,  but 
subsequent  inquiry  convinced  him  of  the  correctness  of 
his  critic's  position,  which  he  frankly  adopted  in  a  Memoir 
published  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions  for  1843. 

From  Edinburgh,  Dr.  W.  B.  Carpenter  returned  to 
Bristol,  to  resume  his  lectures  at  the  Medical  School,  and 
to  make  another  effort  to  acquire  a  practice.  He  found 
himself  among  a  circle  of  friends  whose  varied  tastes  and 
powers  in  some  degree  compensated  him  for  the  loss  of  the 
intellectual  stimulus  of  the  northern  University.  To  Dr. 
Prichard,  the  author  of  the  well-known  "  Physical  History 
of  Mankind,"  who  resided  in  the  old  Elizabethan  mansion 
known  as  the  Red  Lodge,*  he  looked  up  with  almost  filial 

*  Afterwards  converted  by  Mary  Carpenter  into  a  Reformatory  for  Girls. 


SETTLEMENT  IN  BRISTOL.  27 

reverence  and  gratitude.  In  his  old  master,  Mr.  Estlin,  he 
had  the  kindest  and  most  judicious  of  counsellors.  From 
Mr.  Stutchbury,  the  curator  of  the  Museum  in  the  Philoso- 
phical Institution,  he  derived  many  a  valuable  fact  in  natural 
history.  The  refined  and  cultivated  companionship  of  Dr. 
Symonds,  afterwards  the  leading  physician  of  the  West  of 
England,  and  the  beautiful  musical  skill  of  the  Rev.  S.  C. 
Fripp,*  who  played  the  organ  at  the  Levvin's  Mead  Chapel, 
ministered  to  a  different  side  of  his  nature.  And  another 
intimacy  belonging  to  this  period  was  a  source  of  great 
pleasure  to  him  in  after-years,  when  circumstances  again 
brought  the  two  men  together, — his  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Francis  William  Newman,  under  whom  his  brother  Philip 
had  studied  at  the  Bristol  College.  When  proposals  were 
started  for  removing  Manchester  New  College  from  York 
to  Manchester,  and  it  was  known  that  this  step  would 
involve  the  loss  of  the  services  of  Mr.  Kenrick,  its  eminent 
teacher  in  the  languages  and  literature  of  antiquity,  Dr. 
W.  B.  Carpenter  wrote  to  his  brother  Russell  in  the  follow- 
ing terms: — 

November,  1839. 
I  wish,  when  you  see  Mr.  Martineau,  you  would  mention 
Mr.  Newman  to  him  as  classical  tutor.  He  would  also  under- 
take mathematics.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  considered 
essential  to  have  all  Unitarians,  but  Mr.  Newman  is,  I  believe, 
nearer  one  than  anything  else,  and  I  cannot  imagine  any  greater 
advantage  to  the  College  than  to  have  such  a  mind  as  his  in 
connection  with  it.  Freedom  of  inquiry  is  his  leading  principle. 
You  know  how  logical  he  is,  and  what  a  beautiful  spirituality 
there  is  in  his  character.t 

The    practice    which    Dr.    W.    B.   Carpenter    had    now 
resolved    to    seek,   was    not,  however,   easy  to    find.      His 

*  Mr.  Fripp,  father  of  the  well-known  artists,  George  and  Alfred  Fripp, 
had  left  the  Church  of  England  on  theological  grounds. 

t  The  arrangement  here  suggested  was,  some  time  after,  carried  into 
effect. 


28  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

reputation  as  a  writer  proved  rather  injurious  than  bene- 
ficial to  him.  Moreover,  he  longed  more  and  more  to 
devote  himself  to  the  pursuit  and  exposition  of  scientific 
truth,  and  he  found  the  distractions  of  professional  work  in 
the  highest  degree  irksome.  Besides  the  difficulties  risins; 
from  such  interruptions,  he  was  peculiarly  susceptible  to 
the  feeling  of  responsibility  in  connection  with  his  cases. 
They  haunted  him  painfully,  and  he  could  not  put  them 
aside.  He  was  often  ready  enough  in  other  relations  to 
incur  responsibility  without  flinching  ;  but  in  the  treatment 
of  disease  his  sensitiveness  caused  a  continuous  distress 
which  time  and  use  failed  to  overcome.  The  summer 
and  autumn  of  1839  were  partly  spent  in  harassing 
attempts  to  obtain  a  more  remunerative  lectureship  than 
that  which  he  held  at  the  Medical  School ;  though  he  was 
able,  in  addition,  to  gather  general  audiences  at  the  Philoso- 
phical Institution  for  popular  courses  on  Natural  History. 
A  step  in  this  direction  was  made  in  1840,  when  he 
exchanged  the  subject  of  Medical  Jurisprudence  for  that  of 
Physiology  in  the  Medical  School.  He  made  up  his  mind 
finally  to  seek  his  livelihood  as  a  teacher  and  writer,  and 
abandon  all  further  idea  of  medical  practice.  A  second 
edition  of  his  treatise  on  "  General  and  Comparative 
Physiology  "  was  required  in  1841;  and  in  1842  he  brought 
out  a  new  work  entitled,  "  Principles  of  Human  Physiology." 
These  years  were  marked  for  him  by  important  family 
incidents.  He  had  lived  so  much  away  from  home,  and 
his  intellectual  interests  had  been  so  keen,  that  he  felt 
afterwards  that  he  had  been  too  much  absorbed  by  his  own 
aims.  In  the  home  labours,  where  his  mother  and  sisters 
were  carrying  on  the  school  which  provided  the  means  for 
his  education,  he  had  had  no  share — he  had  only  accepted 
their  results.  The  strain  of  study,  of  thought,  of  production 
had  often  been  protracted  and  severe  ;  and  he  had  not  the 


LIFE   IN  BRISTOL.  29 

elasticity  of  nature  which  enabled  him  easily  to  throw  off 
its  effects.  He  was  conscious  that  he  had  often  failed,  as 
he  said,  to  make  his  outward  conduct  conform  to  his  real 
sentiments  in  family  intercourse  ;  he  knew  that  his  manners 
had  "  a  rough  and  sometimes  prickly  exterior."  The  death 
of  Dr.  Lant  Carpenter,  who  was  drowned  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean in  the  spring  of  1840,  while  on  a  voyage  for  his 
health,  brought  these  sentiments  of  self-reproach  into 
strong  prominence  in  his  mind.  He  occupied  himself 
during  the  summer  with  the  preparation  of  a  volume  of  his 
father's  sermons  ;  and  recorded  in  a  letter  to  his  old  and 
much-valued  friend,  Mrs.  Wright,  of  Dalston,  the  thoughts 
which  they  awakened  in  his  mind. 

Kingsdown,  Bristol,  September  6,  1840, 
There  has  been  to  me  a  melancholy  pleasure  in  thus  renew- 
ing, as  it  were,  my  intercourse  with  my  father's  mind  by  retracing 
his  writings  with  more  care  than  as  an  ordinary  reader  I  should 
have  bestowed  upon  them.  .  .  .  How  much  I  wish  that  in  my 
moral  character  I  had  more  of  his  spirit.  I  often  think  of  him 
as  one  who  has  shown  us  how  nearly  it  is  possible  for  frail 
human  nature  to  approach  the  great  Pattern  by  steadfastly 
keeping  before  his  eyes  the  object  of  his  imitation,  and  it  is 
encouraging  at  times  when  a  deeply  humbling  sense  of  one's 
own  shortcomings  might  otherwise  lead  to  despondency  and 
doubt  of  the  possibility  of  acting  up  sufficiently  near  to  the 
Gospel  standard. 

I  can  dwell  now  without  pain  on  the  events  of  the  past  few 
months,  for  my  mind,  though  generally  violently  affected  by 
the  first  shock,  more  easily  reconciles  itself  than  that  of  many 
persons  to  what  is  certain  ;  and  the  nature  of  my  pursuits,  too, 
causes  the  thought  that  all  is  the  ordination  of  a  wise  and 
loving  Parent,  to  become  interwoven  with  it — so  far,  at  least,  as 
to  check  the  murmur,  if  it  cannot  repress  the  sigh.  I  trust  that 
this  source  of  consolation  may  not  fail  me  in  any  trials  to  which 
it  may  be  the  will  of  Providence  that  I  should  hereafter  be 
subjected. 


30  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

This  sorrow  passed  away  in  the  establishment  of  a  home 
of  his  own.  On  October  24,  1840,  Dr.  Carpenter  was 
married  at  Exeter,  to  Louisa  Powell.  Her  father,  who  had 
died  during  her  girlhood,  had  been  a  well-known  merchant 
in  the  city ;  her  mother  was  a  daughter  of  Henry  Cort, 
whose  invention  of  iron-puddling,  though  it  brought  ruin 
to  himself,  proved  the  source  of  enormous  wealth  to  the 
English  nation.  In  the  little  house  on  Kingsdown,  at  the  top 
of  a  steep  flight  of  steps  leading  up  from  the  square  below, 
and  commanding  a  splendid  view  of  the  valley  in  which 
lay  the  busy  city  with  its  towers  and  spires,  its  factory 
chimneys,  and  the  masts  of  its  shipping,  there  was  planted 
the  beginning  of  a  happiness  which  grew  with  deepening 
experience  through  five  and  forty  years.  A  certain  quaint- 
ness  marked  the  arrangements  of  the  little  morning  room, 
where  the  young  wife  saw  behind  her  husband's  chair,  at 
the  other  end  of  the  table,  a  human  skeleton  set  up  erect. 
There  was  never  any  other.  From  first  to  last  they  lived 
in  undivided  trust. 

Round  the  home  gathered  many  intellectual  and  social 
interests.  Music  brightened  it  continually.  .  This  had 
been  always  a  favourite  taste,  almost  a  passion.  When  the 
Medical  Society  at  Edinburgh  had  celebrated  its  centenary 
in  1837,  William  Carpenter,  then  its  senior  president,  on 
whom  devolved  the  duty  of  delivering  the  oration  of  the 
day,  had  lamented  that  it  debarred  him  from  sharing  in 
the  vocal  entertainment  which  followed  the  feast :  "  a 
"number  of  the  members,  with  Dr.  Christison  at  their  head, 
"  got  up  some  capital  glees.  I  could  not  join  in  this,  as  I 
"  had  not  time  for  previous  practising."  There  was  more 
time  now,  in  the  intervals  between  lecturing  and  literary 
work.  With  the  fruits  of  one  of  his  prize-essays  he  had 
purchased  an  organ,  in  Edinburgh  ;  it  was  regarded  by  his 
family  as  a  kind  of  idol,  and  bore  the  familiar  name  ot 


LIFE   IN  BRISTOL.  31 

Dagon,  the  piano  coming  in  only  second,  as  Dagonella. 
The  microscope  also  was  busily  employed  in  the  evenings 
in  the  drawing-room,  and  Dr.  Carpenter  began  a  series  of 
investigations  into  the  microscopical  structure  of  shells, 
which  first  made  known  his  capacities  for  independent 
research.  The  chapel  and  its  organ  were  not  forgotten. 
And  the  whole  was  crowned  in  1841  by  the  birth  of  a  son. 
Here  is  a  glimpse  of  his  life,  as  it  was  shaping  itself  in  the 
spring  of  1842,  when  he  was  just  finishing  his  winter  courses 
of  lectures : — 

I  have  been  working  a  good  deal  with  the  microscope,  and 
have  made  some  discoveries  which  I  think  quite  worthy  of 
being  communicated  to  the  Royal  Society.  I  am  also  busy  in 
preparing  our  collection  of  psalm-tunes,  which  we  are  about  to 
publish.  There  have  been  several  good  reviews  of  my  "  Physi- 
ology." Little  Billy  is  thriving  very  well,  and  is  really  a  very 
intelligent,  good-tempered  child.  I  am  glad  he  does  not  take 
after  his  papa  in  the  latter  particular. 


III. 

Dr.  Carpenter  had  now  acquired  a  reputation  as  a 
scientific  writer,  which  justified  him  in  becoming  a  can- 
didate, in  the  summ.er  of  1842,  for  the  Professorship  of  the 
Institutes  of  Medicine  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 
Many  of  the  eminent  teachers  of  the  faculty  would  have 
welcomed  such  a  colleague  ;  but  the  chair  was  not  in  their 
gift.  The  election  lay  with  the  Lord  Provost  and  the 
Town  Council,  who  regarded  his  Unitarianism  as  a  fatal 
disqualification  for  the  teaching  of  physiology,  and  declined 
even  to  consider  his  claims.  It  was  a  bitter  disappoint- 
ment to  him  ;  and  the  repetition  of  it  some  years  later, 
when  he  again  came  forward  as  candidate  for  the  post 
vacated  by  the   lamented  death  of  his    friend,    Professor 


32  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

Edward  Forbes,  reopened  an  old  wound.  But  he  had  the 
happiness  of  feeling,  long  before  he  himself  passed  away, 
that,  through  the  spread  of  larger  views  of  Christianity, 
this  ground  of  objection  was  for  ever  removed. 

In  the  mean  time  he  was  obliged  to  labour  incessantly 
with  his  pen.  In  1841  he  had  undertaken,  single-handed, 
the  issue  of  a  "  Cyclopaedia  of  Natural  Science."  Treatise 
after  treatise,  on  Animal  Physiology,  Mechanical  Philo- 
sophy, Horology,  Astronomy,  Vegetable  Physiology, 
Botany,  and  Zoology,  poured  out  in  a  stream  of  yellow- 
backed  numbers  with  punctual  regularity  for  three  years. 
Such  a  production  gave  him  a  wide  range  of  knowledge, 
and  enabled  him  often  to  enrich  his  lectures  and  essays 
with  varied  illustrations.  But  the  struggle  to  maintain 
his  position  was  severe ;  and  the  acquaintance  which  he 
formed  in  the  autumn  of  1843  with  Lady  Byron  and  her 
daughter,  Lady  Lovelace,  led  to  his  removal  to  Ripley, 
in  Surrey,  to  undertake  the  superintendence  of  certain 
branches  of  the  education  of  Lord  Lovelace's  two  chil- 
dren at  his  country-seat  at  Ockham.  The  only  available 
house  was  small  and  inconvenient  ;  the  precious  organ 
had  to  be  left  behind.  Withdrawn  from  the  circle  of  his 
friends  in  Bristol,  he  was  more  closely  occupied  than 
ever  with  his  scientific  studies,  of  which  he  felt  his  grasp 
becoming  stronger  and  deeper.  When  the  second  edition 
of  his  *'  Human  Physiology  "  was  called  for  in  the  summer 
of  1844,  he  wrote  to  his  brother  Russell : — 

It  is  very  interesting  to  me  to  see  how  much  progress  my 
own  knowledge  of  the  subject  has  made  during  the  last  two 
years  and  a  half,  which  many  people  think  have  been  unprofit- 
ably  occupied  in  writing  the  Cyclopaedias ;  and  to  find  how 
many  views  which  I  advanced  hesitatingly  have  since  been  so 
far  sanctioned  by  additional  facts  that  I  can  now  state  them 
with  almost  certainty. 


AT  RIPLEY.  33 

At  Ockham,  and  at  the  hospitable  house  of  Lady 
Byron,  at  Esher,  Dr.  Carpenter  had  occasional  opportu- 
nities of  making  acquaintances  outside  the  range  of  his 
own  pursuits.  The  Dissenters'  Chapels  Act,  passed  in 
the  summer  of  1844,  had  relieved  the  Unitarians  from 
the  danger  of  being  dispossessed  of  the  chapels  which 
they  had  inherited  from  their  Presbyterian  ancestors. 
Among  the  promoters  of  this  measure  was  Mr.  Samuel 
Smith,  with  whom  Dr.  Carpenter  was  thus  brought  into 
contact. 

He  had  taken  an  active  part  in  the  Committee  for  the 
Chapels  Bill,  and  I  was  glad  to  learn  that  a  subscription  is 
being  entered  into  for  making  a  present  to  Mr.  Field,  who 
most  liberally  declines  receiving  any  remuneration  for  his 
services,  though  (as  I  have  heard  from  several  sources)  all  his 
time  this  Session,  and  much  of  his  time  for  the  two  preceding, 
has  been  taken  up  about  this  business.  Mr,  Smith  fully  con- 
firmed my  previous  impressions  :  that  without  his  exertions, 
and  the  influence  he  has  gained  by  his  thorough  probity  and 
professional  skill  with  the  Government  Law  Officers,  the  Bill 
would  never  have  passed.  I  know  it  to  be  a  fact  that  nearly 
every  Government  speech  was  got  up  from  materials  supplied 
by  him,  and  taken  with  the  utmost  confidence.  Gladstone's 
speech  was  prepared  within  thirty-six  hours  of  the  Debate. 

These  passing  glimpses  into  the  outside  world  could 
not,  however,  compensate  for  the  absence  of  the  religious 
sympathy  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed. 

I  feel  the  loss  of  public  worship  (so  he  wrote  to  his  brother 
Russell,  in  December,  1S44)  more  than  any  other  kind  of  in- 
convenience of  my  situation  here.  I  have  a  most  particular 
attachment  to  Lewin's  Mead  Chapel,  and  to  the  worship  as 
there  conducted  ;  and  you  can  scarcely  think  how  strong  is  my 
yearning  to  be  at  my  old  post,  and  to  feci  that  I  am  endeavour- 
ing, however  feebly,  to  lead  the  devotional  feelings  of  the  con- 
gregation by  that  form  of  expression  which  is,  in  my  own  mind, 


34  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

so  closely  related  to  what  there  is  of  heaven  in  mortal  feelings. 
I  shall  be  better  pleased  when  I  have  Dagon  again,  for  at  pre- 
sent I  do  not  feel  the  music  of  our  little  service  as  connecting 
me  with  public  worship — a  piano  and  organ  are  so  different — 
but  perhaps  you  may  not  understand  this,  and  may  think  that 
I  set  too  much  value  on  trifles.  But  you  know  that  different 
minds  are  differently  constituted,  and  that  the  feelings,  espe- 
cially, are  affected  in  different  ways.  It  takes  a  greal  deal  to 
move  me  on  some  subjects,  but  I  am  susceptible  enough 
(with  all  my  philosophy)  on  others.  .  .  . 

Never  since  I  have  begun  to  look  at  the  subject  at  all,  have 
I  felt  so  much  hope  of  human  progress  as  I  do  now.  The 
advance,  almost  silently  for  a  long  time,  but  now  manifesting 
itself  in  a  variety  of  ways,  towards  what  I  deem  right  views  on 
a  great  variety  of  subjects,  is  to  me  most  wonderful  and  cheer- 
ing, and  I  hope  I  shall  never  feel  discouraged  at  want  of 
success  in  any  of  my  own  individual  efforts  to  forward  it. 

The  year  1844  was  distinguished  by  the  publication  of 
the  remarkable  book  entitled  "  The  Vestiges  of  Creation," 
which  first  suggested  the  theory  afterwards  known  as 
"  genetic  development,"  or  the  lineal  descent  of  the  higher 
forms  of  plants  and  animals  from  the  lower.  The  parallel 
between  many  of  its  conceptions  and  those  expounded  in 
Dr.  Carpenter's  writings,  led  some  readers  to  ascribe  it  to 
him.  Early  in  1845  he  met,  at  Lady  Byron's,  the  Hon. 
Miss  Murray,  one  of  the  Queen's  maids  of  honour. 

She  was  very  amusing  (he  reported),  especially  as  she  was 
full  of  royal  and  noble  opinions  upon  phrenology  and  mes- 
merism, and  especially  upon  the  "Vestiges,"  which  is  being  very 
extensively  read  in  the  highest  circles,  and  generally  attributed 
to  me.  Prince  Albert  is  reading  it  aloud  to  the  Queen  in  an 
afternoon.  This  is  his  customary  employment,-  and  they  read 
through  many  valuable  works  in  that  manner. 

In  an  article  in  the  British  mid  Foreign  Medical 
Review,  published  in  January,  1845,  Dr.  Carpenter  ex- 
pressed his  sympathy  with  many  of  the  author's  positions, 


''THE    VESTIGES    OF  CREATION:'  35 

though  he  critic'zed  various  errors  of  detail.  But  he  was 
not  prepared  to  accept  the  main  doctrine,  for  which  he 
regarded  the  evidence  as  altogether  inadequate.  And  on 
more  abstract  grounds,  he  somewhat  hesitatingly  sug- 
gested that  if  it  were  admitted  as  possible  that  any  com- 
bination of  inorganic  matter  could  under  any  circumstances 
produce  a  living  being,  there  was  no  reason  why  such  a 
combination  should  not  be  the  real  origin  of  every  race, 
including  man  himself  Every  species  would  thus  have 
been  called  into  being  in  accordance  with  the  original  plan 
and  the  pervading  energy  of  the  Creator,  just  when  that 
coincidence  of  circumstances  occurred  which  was  favour- 
able to  its  development  and  continuance.  It  was  cha- 
racteristic of  his  state  of  imperfect  emancipation  from  the 
traditional  view  of  Biblical  revelation  in  which  he  had 
been  trained,  that  he  added — 

That  the  Creator  formed  man  out  of  the  dust  of  the  earth, 
we  have  Scriptural  authority  for  believing ;  and  we  must  con- 
fess our  own  predilection  for  the  idea  that,  at  a  certain  period, 
however  remotely  antecedent,  the  Creator  endowed  certain 
forms  of  inorganic  matter  with  the  properties  requisite  to 
enable  them  to  combine  at  the  fitting  season  into  the  human 
organism, — over  that  which  would  lead  us  to  regard  the  great- 
grandfather of  our  common  progenitor  as  a  chimpanzee. 

A  little  later,  however,  he  seemed  to  be  somewhat 
more  favourably  inclined  to  the  general  proposition,  as  a 
matter  of  a  priori  probability,  though  the  evidence  of 
science  then  appeared  to  him  clearly  to  indicate  "the  non- 
^' convertibility  of  species  really  distinct;"  and  in  one  of 
a  scries  of  papers  published  in  the  Inquirer,  in  1845,  on 
"The  Harmony  of  Science  and  Religion,"  he  thus  pointed 
out  the  important  analogies  on  which  he  afterwards  dwelt 
so  much,  between  the  presence  of  design  in  the  evolution 
of  the  solar  system,  in  the  evolution  of  any  given  human 


36  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

form  from  its  first  germ,  and  in  the  evolution  of  the  entire 
organic  world. 

In  this  hypothesis  I  cannot   see  anything  that   is    either 
abstractedly  improbable,  or  that  in  the  least  tends  to  separate 
the    idea   of  Creative    Design   from    the  Organized  Creation. 
There  is  surely  nothing  more  Atheistical  in  the  idea  that  the 
Creator,   instead    of  originating  each   race   by   a  distinct  and 
separate  act  (the  notion  commonly  entertained),  gave  to  the 
first  created  Monad  those  properties,  by  the  continued  action 
of  which,  through  countless  ages,  a  Man  would  be  evolved, — 
than  there  is  in  the  idea,  to  which  we  are  irresistibly  led  by 
Physiological  study,  that  the  Creator  has  given  such  properties 
to   the   first   germ-cell   of  the  human  ovum,  as  enable  it  to 
become   developed    into    the    human   form  in    the  course   of 
only  a  few  months  ; — or  in  the  idea,   to  which   Astronomical 
research  seems  to  lead,  that  the  Deity,   instead  of  establish- 
ing the  present  system  of  the  Universe  by  creating  each  star 
and  planet  in  its  present  form,  setting  it  in  a  particular  place, 
and  giving  it  a   certain  motion,   produced   this   result  by   the 
creation  of  Nebular  Matter,  and  by  the  endowment  of  it  with 
certain     properties,    whose     continued     operation     fiecessarily 
wrought  it  out.     If  we  believe  that  to  the  mind  of  the  Deity, 
the  past  and  the  future  are  alike  present,   and  that  His  pre- 
science is  so  perfect  as  to  comprehend  all  the  results  of  the 
plan  on  which  He  conducts  the  operations  of  the   Universe, 
we  see  His  hand   in  the  mode  of  creation  supposed  by  this 
hypothesis  of  development,  fully  as  much  as  in  the  one  com- 
monly attributed  to   Him.     And  if  we  believe   that  what  we 
call  laivs  and  properties  of  matter  are  nothing  else  than  human 
expressions    of  the   constancy    of  the    mode   in    which    the 
Creator  operates,    we   see  that  the  hypothesis   coincides  with 
all  which    Science   and  Religion   alike    teach,   respecting  the 
invariability  of  His  mode  of  working.     To  imagine  that   the 
Creator    was    obliged    to    interpose,    or    to    exert   some  special 
agency,  for  the  production  of  new  races  of  plants  and  animals, 
every  time  that  the  conditions  of  the  earth's  surface  became 
incompatible  with  the  continued  existence  of  those  previously 
existing,  and  at  the  same  time  became  prepared  for  others, — 


RELIGIOUS   PHILOSOPHY.  37 

appears  to  me  the  same  thing  as  to  suppose  that  He  was 
obhged,  through  want  of  previous  acquaintance  with  the 
changes  on  the  earth's  surface,  to  meet  the  emergencies  as 
they  might  arise,  and  to  compensate  for  the  unforeseen  ex- 
tinction of  one  race  of  beings,  by  the  special  creation  of 
another. 

The  course  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  thought  had  at  this  time 
only  appeared  to  confirm  the  view  of  the  world  and  of  life 
in  which  he  had  been  brought  up.  He  had  accepted  the 
Biblical  record  as  a  supernatural  revelation  accredited  by 
miracles.     He  said,  indeed,  that — 

We  must  allow  a  great  deal  in  regard  to  the  form  of  what  we 
call  revelation,  and  that  physical  science,  in  the  form  in  which 
it  is  now  developing  itself,  is  another  revelation  which  is  adapted 
to  convince  the  intellect  of  those  who  could  not  receive  the 
same  doctrines  as  mere  matters  of  faith. 

And'  he  added — 

As  the  mind  of  man  advances,  I  believe  that  the  Biblical 
revelation  will  come  to  be  regarded  in  the  light  in  which  1  now 
view  it,  i.e.  as  specially  designed  for  those  periods  when  the 
human  mind  would  more  passively  receive  the  truths  it  teaches, 
and  would  give  more  ready  credence  to  the  proofs  by  which  it 
was  then  supported  ;  that,  as  less  confidence  comes  to  be  placed 
in  the  external  evidences,  the  strength  of  the  internal  will  be 
found  to  increase ;  and  that,  in  fine,  the  fundamental  truths  of 
religion  will  rest  on  the  generalizations  of  science,  blended  with 
the  express  declarations  of  God,  the  latter  being  received  chiefly 
as  such,  because  in  full  accordance  with  the  former. 

The  "  internal  evidences,"  however,  on  which  Dr.  Car- 
penter was  then  disposed  to  rely,  were  not  those  of  the 
moral  and  religious  affections  ;  they  were  almost  wholly  of 
an  intellectual  kind  ;  they  were  such  as  were  suggested  by 
the  contemplation  of  the  "  plan  of  creation,"  and  the  indica- 
tions of  the  presence  and  energy  of  mind  in  the  world 
around.     In  such  a  mood   of  thought,  miracles  still  had 


438093 


38  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

their  place  and  value.  His  attention  had  not  yet  been 
called,  either  by  literary  criticism  or  by  the  study  of  the 
conditions  under  which  beliefs  are  formed,  to  the  origin 
and  composition  of  the  Gospel  narratives. 

To  impugn  the  miracles  as  facts  (he  wrote  to  his  brother 
Russell,  in  the  letter  just  quoted.  February  2,  1845),  seems  to 
me  to  indicate  a  very  incorrect  view  of  the  nature  of  evidence  ; 
and  the  desire  to  do  so  which  prompts  the  attempt  shows,  I 
think,  a  very  perverted  view  of  the  real  character  of  revelation 
as  well  as  of  the  import  of  "  natural  laws." 

Miracles  were,  in  fact,  the  manifestation  of  some  higher  law. 
The  conception  of  the  uniformity  of  the  Divine  action 
in  the  universe  had  at  this  time  so  complete  a  sway  over 
Dr.  Carpenter's  mind  that  he  surrendered  to  it  even  the 
entire  range  of  human  thought  and  volition.  In  later 
days  he  became  known  as  the  ardent  opponent  of  that 
interpretation  of  our  consciousness  now  designated  as  "  de- 
"  terminism."  But  his  earlier  studies  had  only  strengthened 
him  in  the  strict  necessarian  ideas  of  his  original  education. 
He  had  been  trained  by  his  father  in  the  principles  of 
Hartley;  his  psychological  text-book  had  been  James  Mill's 
"Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind;"  and  his  acquaintance 
with  John  Stuart  Mill,  and  the  perusal  of  his  treatise  on 
Logic,  had  not  tended  to  weaken  the  general  notions  thus 
impressed  upon  him.  These  notions  appeared  confirmed 
by  his  scientific  inquiries,  which  had  hitherto  dealt  entirely 
with  the  world  of  matter,  and  had  not  yet  extended  to  the 
processes  of  the  mind.  He  was  saved  from  the  conse- 
quences of  the  elder  Mill's  dissection  of  the  idea  of  God  by 
his  acceptance  of  a  doctrine  of  revelation  ;  and,  under  the 
strong  belief  in  the  presence  of  design  in  nature,  his  empi- 
rical philosophy  and  his  religion  found  a  comfortable  shelter 
together.  Accordingly,  in  another  of  the  Inquirer  papers 
already  quoted,  he  affirms  (§  97)  "that  all  human  actions 


RELIGIOUS  PHILOSOPHY.  39 

"  (being  the  results  of  the  operation  of  circumstances  upon  the 
"  mental  constitution  of  each  individual  according  to  fixed 
"  laws)  are  to  be  regarded,  like  the  phenomena  of  the  Physical 
"  Universe,  as  the  expressions  of  the  will  of  the  Creator,"  and 
(§  I08)  "that  all  the  actions  of  the  human  mind  are  as 
"much  the  expressions  of  the  Divine  will  as  are  the  opera- 
"tions  of  man's  bodily  frame,  or  the  movements  of  the 
"heavenly  bodies."  Where  all  mental  operations  are  but 
the  working  out  of  the  Divine  plan,  the  belief  in  our  own 
freedom  is,  of  course,  a  part  of  that  plan.  "  Hence  we  are 
"to  ourselves  perfectly  free.  We  do  as  we  wish,  notwith- 
"  standing  that  our  volitions  are  all  the  necessary  results  of 
"  our  constitution  and  circumstances,  and  are  prearranged 
"  by  Deity." 

We  must  in  consequence  (argued  Dr.  Carpenter)  recognize 
in  the  phenomena  of  mind  the  same  determinateness  as  in 
those  of  physics  and  vitality.  The  difficulty  which  affects  us 
in  regard  to  the  prediction  of  them  is  precisely  that  which 
affects  the  meteorologist,  viz.  a  very  imperfect  acquaintance 
with  the  conditions  under  which  the  phenomena  occur.  If 
these  conditions  are  fully  known,  the  result  may  be  accurately 
predicted. 

This  absolute  abandonment  of  all  individual  causation, 
which  was  thus  merged  in  the  only  true  self  in  the  whole 
universe — namely,  God — required  an  immediate  revision  of 
the  meaning  of  the  common  terms  of  the  moral  conscious- 
ness. The  current  ideas  of  responsibility,  merit,  guilt,  all 
disappeared.  With  them  passed  away,  likewise,  the  ordi- 
nary view  of  rewards  and  punishments,  and  all  justification 
for  the  doctrine  of  eternal  torments. 

It  cannot  be  regarded  as  consistent  with  either  the  justice 
or  the  benevolence  of  the  Deity  (concluded  Dr.  Carpenter)  that 
he  sliould,  by  the  infliction  of  additional  suffering,  as  a  retribti- 
tio7i  for  acts  which  are  really  his    own,   increase  the   burden 


40  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

of  evil  under  which  the  human  race  already  lies  as  a  necessary 
consequence  of  its  imperfection.  All  ideas  of  punishment,  as 
necessary  to  satisfy  Divine  wrath,  or  to  expiate  human  offences, 
are  excluded  on  the  present  scheme.  But  it  does  not  exclude 
the  idea  of  suffering,  as  on  the  one  hand  a  necessary  conse- 
quence of  human  error,  and  on  the  other  as  requisite  for  the 
eradication  of  that  error,  and  for  the  purification  and  elevation 
of  the  human  soul. 

It  was  characteristic  of  his  fidelity  to  the  steadfast 
rectitude  of  his  moral  training,  however  imperfectly  it 
might  harmonize  with  his  theoretical  interpretations,  that 
he  still  sought  to  maintain  our  accountability  to  the  Deity 
even  for  the  "  acts  which  are  really  his  own." 

We  are  as  much  aceoiintahle  to  our  Creator  for  the  use  we 
make  of  our  powers  as  if  he  had  committed  them  to  our 
charge  in  ignorance  of  the  result ;  and  our  virtues  and  faults  are 
to  us  as  much  under  the  control  of  the  self-regulating  power 
with  which  he  has  endowed  us  as  they  could  be  if  we  had  no 
relation  to  him  whatever  as  a  Creator,  but  were  self-existent 
beings. 

Nature  had  been  driven  out  with  a  pitchfork,  but  it 
persisted  in  coming  back.  What  use  Dr.  Carpenter  was 
afterwards  to  make  of  the  meaning  of  the  "  self-regulating 
power  "  which  he  thus  recognized,  the  essays  on  "  Human 
Automatism,"  written  after  thirty  years  more  of  experience 
and  reflection,  will  abundantly  show. 

IV. 

In  the  spring  of  1845,  the  arrangement  with  Lord 
Lovelace  was  brought  to  a  close,  and  Dr.  Carpenter  moved 
to  London,  He  had  been  appointed  in  the  preceding  year 
to  the  Fullerian  Professorship  of  Physiology  in  the  Royal 
Institution,  and  he  had  been  elected  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal 
Society,    He  now  undertook  the  course  of  General  Anatomy 


SETTLEMENT   IN  LONDON.  41 

and  Physiology  at  the  London  Hospital,  where  he  continued 
to  lecture  for  the  next  twelve  years.  He  settled  in  a  small 
house  in  Stoke  Newington,  which  he  exchanged  shortly 
after  for  a  more  convenient  residence  near  the  Regent's 
Park.  The  usual  home  life  went  on  without  interruption, 
broken  only  by  occasional  excursions  to  various  parts  of 
the  country  for  courses  of  popular  lectures  on  Natural 
History.  The  constant  toil  of  production  must  be  kept  up, 
and  in  1846  appeared  a  "  Manual  of  Physiology,"  in  which 
the  doctrines  of  the  larger  treatises  were  condensed.  He 
continued  to  contribute  to  the  British  and  Foreign  Medical 
Review,  of  which  he  became  editor  in  1847,  on  the  retire- 
ment of  Dr.  Forbes,  who  warmly  expressed  his  great 
indebtedness  to  him  for  his  ever-ready  aid.  For  the  next 
five  years  he  bestowed  upon  it  a  large  amount  of  time  and 
energy  ;  besides  his  general  supervision,  he  wrote  numerous 
articles  for  it,  on  a  still  wider  range  of  subjects  than  he  had 
hitherto  discussed.  Another  post  was  conferred  on  him  in 
1847  by  his  election  to  the  Examinership  in  Physiology 
and  Comparative  Anatomy  in  the  University  of  London  ; 
and  when  the  Fullerian  Professorship  at  the  Royal  Listitu- 
tion  expired  in  the  same  year,  the  trustees  of  the  British 
Museum  designated  him  for  the  Swiney  Lectureship  on 
Geology.  This  list  may  be  completed  by  the  record  of  his 
succession,  in  1849,  to  the  chair  of  Medical  Jurisprudence 
in  University  College;  and,  in  1852,  to  the  Principalship 
of  University  Hall. 

These  different  appointments  brought  Dr.  Carpenter 
into  connection  with  a  larger  circle  of  friends  engaged  in 
kindred  pursuits,  and  enabled  him  to  form  ties  which  were 
severed  only  by  death.  With  Dr.  Sharpey,  Professor  of 
Physiology  in  University  College,  with  Mr.  (now  Sir  James) 
Paget,  Dr.  (now  Sir  Joseph)  Hooker,  and  Mr.  George  Busk, 
he  remained  always  in  relations  of  cherished  intimacy.    Mr. 


42  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

Robert  Chambers  sought  him  out  in  an  early  visit,  and  the 
suspicion  which  he  had  already  formed  through  correspon- 
dence with  him  as  to  the  authorship  of  the  "  Vestiges,"  was 
strongly  confirmed  by  their  subsequent  intercourse,  which 
ripened  into  warm  friendship.  His  researches  into  the  micro- 
scopic structure  of  shells  brought  him  the  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  Darwin,  who  requested  him  to  examine  for  him  some 
specimens  of  the  great  Pampas  formation,  for  the  "  Geo- 
logical History  of  South  America,"  on  which  he  was  then 
engaged.  These  shell-inquiries,  which  he  had  begun  at 
Bristol,  and  continued  at  Ripley,  were  conducted  with  the 
aid  of  grants  from  the  British  Association,  and  the  results 
were  published  in  its  Reports  for  1844  and  1847,  with  forty 
plates  lithographed  from  original  drawings.  They  estab- 
lished his  reputation  as  an  original  investigator,  and 
prepared  the  way  for  his  future  labours  on  the  great  class 
of  Foraminifera,  on  which  his  first  paper  was  published 
in  1850.  His  discoveries  among  the  Brachiopoda,  in  par- 
ticular, were  extended  and  summarized  in  an  Introductory 
Memoir  on  the  microscopic  structure  of  the  shells  of  that 
group,  contributed  to  Mr.  Davidson's  elaborate  work  on 
British  Fossil  Brachiopoda  in  1853. 

Other  friendships  also  entered  his  life  from  another  side. 
He  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  A.  J.  Scott,*  and  at  his 
house  he  witnessed  one  evening  an  encounter  between  Mr. 
Carlyle  and  Professor  F.  W.  Newman,  who  had  left  Man- 
chester to  become  Professor  of  Latin  in  University  College, 

I  have  only  left  myself  space  (he  related  to  his  sister  Mary, 
in  the  spring  of  1847)  to  tell  you  briefly  that  I  met  Carlyle  in 
society  last  night,  and  listened  to  a  long  debate  between  him 
and  Newman,  in  Avhich  Carlyle  vehemently  denounced  tolera- 
tion as  the  destruction  of  all  individuality.     His  language  was 

*  Then  Professor  of  English  in  University  College,  London,  and  afterwards 
Principal  of  Owen's  College,  Manchester. 


RESIDENCE  IN  LONDON.  43 

very  forcible,  and  many  of  his  views  had  much  truth  ;  but  he 
evidently  pushed  them  to  an  extreme,  either  intentionally  or 
through  habit. 

In  fact,  on  this  occasion,  Carlyle  went  so  far  as  to  defend 
Calvin  for  burning  Servetus  ;  and  Dr.  Carpenter  used  often 
to  relate  how,  when  he  had  departed,  Mr.  Newman  held  up 
his  hands  in  amazement,  and  asked,  "  Does  Mr.  Carlyle 
always  talk  like  that.?"  In  his  house  at  Regent's  Park 
Terrace,  Dr.  Carpenter's  nearest  neighbours  were  Mr.  Scott 
and  Mr.  Wills,  the  fellow-worker  with  Dickens  in  the 
manasrement  of  Household  Words.  Mrs.  Wills  was  a  sister 
of  Mr.  Robert  Chambers,  and  in  her  society  the  hard- 
working man  of  science  often  found  relief  for  his  wearied 
brain  among  the  drolleries  of  Scotch  humour  and  the  pathos 
of  Scotch  ballads,  which  he  specially  loved. 

Dr.  Carpenter's  residence  in  London  also  secured  for 
him  a  renewal  of  the  religious  fellowship  which  he  had  so 
sorely  missed  in  Ripley.  He  saw,  indeed,  some  tendencies 
among  those  to  whom  he  was  otherwise  drawn  by  theo- 
logical affinity,  of  which  he  seriously  disapproved  ;  and 
with  a  touch  of  sarcasm  very  rare  in  his  conversation  or 
letters,  he  pointed  out  the  danger  to  his  brother  Russell. 

I  think  that  Unitarians  are  pretty  nearly  as  likely  to  be 
Pharisaical  as  Trinitarians,  if  placed  in  the  same  circumstances. 
"  God,  I  thank  Thee  that  I  am  not  as  these  poor  blinded 
"idolaters  that  pray  to  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,"  is,  if  I 
mistake  not,  a  form  of  thanksgiving  often  felt  among  us,  if  not 
uttered. 

This  dissatisfaction  found  expression  in  the  year  1848, 
when  he  made  an  earnest  and  public  protest  against 
the  refusal  on  the  part  of  some  who  were  regarded  as 
leaders  of  the  Unitarian  body,  to  extend  the  Christian 
name  to  those  who  rejected  the  historical  character  of  the 
Gospel  miracles.  The  influence  of  German  criticism  was 
3 


44  MEMORIAL  SKETCH, 

beginning  to  be  powerfully  felt  in  this  country.  The 
translation  of  Strauss's  "  Life  of  Jesus  "  had  just  appeared  ; 
and  the  writings  of  Theodore  Parker  were  exciting  a 
vigorous  interest,  partly  friendly,  partly  hostile,  among 
English  as  among  American  Unitarians.  Dr.  Carpenter 
had  not  then  entered  on  the  psychological  studies  which 
were  afterwards  to  modify  his  view  of  the  conditions  of 
belief  under  which  the  miraculous  narratives  grew  up  ;  nor 
had  he  investigated  the  composition  of  the  Gospels.  "  To 
"  me,"  said  he,  "  the  evidence  for  the  Christian  miracles,  taken 
"as  a  whole,  is  quite  as  much  as  is  requisite  to  obtain  my 
"  intellectual  assent."  But  that  assent  was  practically  ten- 
dered upon  other  grounds  than  historical  testimony.  It 
was  on  the  character  and  teachings  of  Jesus  that  he  really 
took  his  stand.  "  For  myself,  I  should  say  with  Locke, 
"  '  The  doctrine  proves  the  miracles,  rather  than  the  miracles 
" '  the  doctrine.'  "  With  some  of  the  most  respected  members 
of  the  Unitarian  Association,  therefore,  he  felt  himself  in 
imperfect  sympathy ;  and  partly  from  this  cause,  and 
partly  from  the  continued  pressure  of  his  lecture  engage- 
ments, and  subsequently,  owing  to  his  official  connection 
with  the  University  of  London,  he  took  no  active  share  in 
it  for  many  years.  But  in  worship  he  found  the  satisfac- 
tion of  his  religious  needs.  His  removal  to  Regent's  Park 
Terrace  enabled  him  to  join  the  congregation  at  Rosslyn 
Hill,  Hampstead,  with  whose  pastor,  Dr.  Sadler,  he  formed 
at  once  a  warm  and  intimate  friendship.  The  musical  por- 
tion of  the  service  appeared  to  him,  however,  cold  and  bare, 
with  its  antiquated  accompaniment  of  fiddles.  With  cha- 
racteristic energy  he  propounded  a  plan  for  the  purchase 
of  an  organ  and  the  formation  of  a  choir.  In  this  little 
sanctuary,  enlarged  and  enlarged  again  as  the  congregation 
increased,  was  he  to  be  found  at  the  organ,  Sunday  by 
Sunday,  for  the  next  seventeen  years  \  and  when  this  duty 


RESIDENCE  IN  LONDON.  45 

was  relinquished,  he  remained  till  the  last  a  regular  wor- 
shipper. How  completely  his  religious  interests  crowned 
his  life,  and  supplied  him  with  a  point  of  view  from  which 
to  look  on  social  affairs,  may  be  seen  from  a  passage  in 
a  letter  to  his  mother,  at  the  close  of  1848. 

To  Mrs.  Carpenter,  Bristol. 

London,  December  31,  1848. 
We  can  never  forget  this  year.  How  vast  and  wonderful 
have  been  its  convulsions,  and  yet  how  insignificant  at  present 
seem  its  results.  Yet  I  cannot  but  believe  that  it  is  only  the 
commencement  of  a  more  enlightened  and  progressive  state, 
and  that  the  demonstrations  of  popular  force  which  it  has  ex- 
hibited will  prevent  for  the  future  anything  like  a  return  to  the 
arbitrary  systems  of  the  past.  And  one  most  hopeful  sign  has 
been  that  there  has  been  nowhere  any  reaction  against  religion, 
as  in  the  first  French  Revolution.  I  cannot  but  think  that  the 
increased  freedom  of  action  in  Germany  will  contribute  to  much 
more  practical  freedom  of  religious  inquiry.  It  is  wonderful 
how  difficult  that  people  have  found  it  to  carry  their  speculative 
freedom  into  action,  owing  as  it  would  seem  to  a  certain  torpor 
of  that  part  of  their  psychical  nature  which  brings  abstract  prin- 
ciples into  actualities.  I  have  been  very  much  struck  with  this  in 
reading  an  article  on  Gfrorer's  "  Origin  of  Christianity  "  in  the 
last  Prospective  Review.  The  article  interested  me  very  much, 
and  gave  me  clearer  views  as  to  the  philosophy  of  the  Alexan- 
drian school  than  I  had  before.  I  have  been  much  dwelling  on 
the  idea  I  mentioned  to  you  that  the  Gospel  of  John  was  com- 
posed by  John  of  Ephesus  (the  probable  writer  of  the  Epistles), 
from  material  supplied  by  the  Apostle  John ;  and  the  more  I 
trace  in  it  the  pervading  influence  of  the  Neo-Platonic  philo- 
sophy, the  more  unlikely  does  it  seem  to  me  that  the  simple- 
minded  aposde,  whose  Jewish  and  material  mind  is  so  strongly 
displayed  in  the  Apocalypse,  should  himself  have  penned  such 
a  finished  and  metaphysical  composition. 

For  some  time    past   the  Temperance   movement  had 
been  exciting  more  and  more  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  interest. 


46  MEMORIAL    SKETCH. 

It  had  been  earnestly  espoused  by  the  rest  of  his  family  ; 
and  he  was  led  to  deal  with  it  from  the  scientific  side. 
Accordingly,  in  an  article  in  the  Medical  Review,  published 
in  1847,  Dr.  Carpenter  discussed  the  effects  of  alcoholic 
drinks  on  the  human  system  in  health  and  disease.  Two 
years  later  he  obtained  a  prize  of  one  hundred  guineas 
for  the  best  essay  on  the  use  and  abuse  of  alcoholic  liquors, 
which  was  published  in  1850.  He  himself  practised  total 
abstinence,  and  trained  his  children  to  it,  until  repeated 
illnesses  in  later  years  (especially  one  of  many  months' 
duration  in  1864-5)  led  him  to  take  a  moderate  amount 
of  stimulant.  But  he  always  remained  a  hearty  friend  to 
the  Temperance  cause.  In  an  address  on  the  "Physiology 
of  Alcoholics,"  delivered  in  1882,  in  the  Tremont  Temple, 
Boston,  Massachusetts,  at  the  request  of  Governor  Long 
and  other  leading  men,  he  reaffirmed  many  of  the 
positions  of  his  earlier  essay. 

The  five  years  during  which  Dr.  Carpenter  occupied  the 
editorial  chair  of  the  Medico-Chiriirgical  Review,  were  per- 
haps the  busiest  of  all  his  busy  life.  His  professional 
appointments  kept  him  constantly  at  work  as  a  lecturer. 
He  poured  out  article  after  article  in  the  Review.  He  was 
carrying  his  physiological  treatises  through  new  editions, 
into  which  so  much  fresh  matter  was  absorbed  that  there 
sometimes  seemed  but  little  of  the  original  structure  left. 
And  his  natural  history  researches  engaged  his  constant 
attention.  Brief  holidays  only  could  he  allow  himself 
His  day  began  at  six,  and  often  ended  only  at  midnight, 
an  hour  or  two  over  the  microscope  in  the  evening  forming 
his  only  recreation,  while  his  wife  played  or  sang,  or 
beguiled  him  to  join  her  in  a  duet.  In  this  continued  .strain 
he  had  little  time  for  family  intercourse,  and  his  corre- 
spondence was  reduced  to  the  smallest  dim.ensions.  Every 
now  and  then,  however,  the  occurrence  of  some  anniversary 


RESIDENCE    IN   LONDON.  47 

led  him  to  open  his  heart,  or  some  fresh  fact  or  idea  kindled 
his  enthusiasm,  and  impelled  him  to  look  for  sympathy  in 
the  old  Bristol  home.  The  press  of  affairs  often  drove  the 
returning  birthday  from  his  mind  till  he  wrote  the  date, 
and  the  recollection  of  brother  or  sister  surged  up  in  his 
consciousness,  and  prompted  his  pen.  The  following 
passage  from  a  letter  to  his  sister  Mary,  shows  the  attitude 
of  his  thought  to  the  memory  of  the  great  bereavement 
which  had  never  long  been  absent  from  her  imagination. 
It  was  written  on  her  birthday,  but  it  would  arrive  on  the 
anniversary  of  her  father's  death,  a  day 

that  must  be  felt  by  all  of  us  to  be  one  of  deep  interest, 
though  lime  modifies  the  painful  part  of  the  associations  con- 
nected with  it,  and  makes  us  dwell  (or,  rather,  should  do  so)  on 
the  mutual  happiness  we  enjoy  as  a  family,  notwithstanding  our 
diversity  of  tastes  and  pursuits.  .  .  .  The  memory  of  our  dear 
father  should  not  be  to  any  of  us,  I  think,  associated  with  pain- 
ful feelings,  even  when  thus  specially  recalled ;  for  we  can  all 
feel  that  we  are  occupied  as  he  would  approve,  and  carrying  out 
in  our  various  modes  the  objects  in  which  he  was  most  deeply 
interested.  And  while  we  may  all  of  us  at  times  regret  the  loss 
of  his  counsel  and  guidance,  yet  we  may  also  feel  that  if  it  had 
been  longer  continued  to  us,  we  might  either  by  resting  too 
much  upon  it  have  too  little  cultivated  our  own  self-reliance,  or, 
on  the  other  hand,  carried  as  we  have  been  into  circumstances 
in  which  he  could  not  follow  us,  we  might  have  been  often  led 
to  give  him  pain,  by  preferring  our  own  judgment  to  his.  Affec- 
tion never  dies,  though  it  may  sleep ;  and  whether  he  be  or  be 
not  at  present  regarding  us  with  love,  I  no  more  think  of  his 
love  as  lost  to  us,  than  I  do  of  that  of  my  wife  or  children  as 
extinguished  when  they  are  asleep. 

A  year  or  two  later  he  steals  a  few  minutes  from  the 
rush  of  business  to  announce  to  the  same  sister  a  discovery 
among  the  Foraminifcra  at  which  he  has  been  so  long 
working. 


48  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 


To  Miss  Mary  Carpenter. 

London,  November  3,  1850. 
I  have  had  a  regular  torrent  of  interruptions,  so  that  if  it 
continues  I  shall  really  be  driven  for  a  month  or  so  to  a  country 
lodging  where  I  may  experience  the  blessed  consciousness  that 
no  one  can  come  in  upon  me.  I  try  to  exercise  Christian 
charity  towards  the  many  people  who  bother  me  ;  but  it  is  really 
very  difficult  to  do  so  when  one  feels  driven  to  desperation  by 
the  want  of  power  to  fulfil  one's  engagements,  to  say  nothing  of 
the  misery  of  having  one's  trains  of  thought  interrupted,  and 
the  provoking  consciousness  that  no  sacrifice  of  one's  self  will 
remedy  the  evil,  since  my  brain  (and  it  is  well  for  me  that  it  is 
so)  breaks  down  at  once  under  overwork,  and  refuses  to  labour 
for  more  than  twelve  hours  a  day,  by  the  very  simple  process 
of  going  to  sleep  over  my  pages.  So  when  it  will  spin  nothing 
more,  I  betake  myself  upstairs  to  tea,  and  finish  in  the  evening 
with  music  and  microscopizing ;  the  latter  being  a  special  delight 
to  me  at  the  present  time,  as  I  have  found  the  most  interesting 
things  possible  among  my  Australian  dredgings,  namely,  the 
recent  types  of  all  my  most  interesting  forms  of  fossil  Forami- 
nifera  (I  only  last  night  discovered  the  one  wanting  to  com- 
plete the  list),  confirming  all  that  I  had  advanced  respecting 
them,  with  other  forms  entirely  new.  I  do  not  know  when  I 
have  been  more  fascinated  by  anything. 

By  the  side  of  these  minute  investigations  he  was  at  the 
same  time  pursuing  two  important  lines  of  thought,  not 
wholly  unrelated  to  each  other,  both  of  which  had  for  a 
long  time  engaged  his  attention.  The  connection  sub- 
sisting between  the  different  forces  of  Nature  had  excited 
his  boyish  interest  when  Mr.  Exley  had  expounded  to  a 
Bristol  audience  that  "  new  theory  of  matter  "  by  which  all 
the  attractions  of  gravitation,  cohesion,  electricity,  and  the 
rest,  might  be  explained  upon  the  same  principles.  In 
dealing  with  the  "  laws  regulating  vital  and  physical  pheno- 
mena," he  had  looked  forward  to  a  time  when  it  might  be 


THE    VITAL   AND   PHYSICAL   FORCES.  49 

shown  that  the  vital  properties  of  matter  resulted  from 
some  higher  and  more  general  qualities  from  which  the 
physical  might  also  be  derived.  He  was  now  about  to 
place  this  speculation  on  a  more  assured  basis  of  fact  and 
reasoning.  And  the  study  of  the  nervous  system  which 
he  had  begun  in  Edinburgh,  was  to  be  pursued  more  and 
more  eagerly  till  it  was  to  result  in  a  complete  reversal, 
largely  on  physiological  grounds,  of  that  interpretation  of 
the  moral  consciousness  which  he  had  recently  put  forward 
with  such  security  of  faith. 

The  publication  of  Mr.  Grove's  views  on  the  "  Corre- 
lation of  the  Physical  Forces,"  in  1846,  gave  a  vivid  stimulus 
to  Dr.  Carpenter's  reflections  on  this  subject.  He  saw  at 
once  that  they  could  be  applied  and  extended  within  the 
domain  of  physiology.  He  had  himself  for  some  time 
urged  that  what  were  commonly  called  the  vital  properties  of 
organic  matter  were  simply  the  result  of  the  capacities  for 
action,  with  which  its  constituent  molecules  were  endowed, 
when  called  into  play  under  conditions  suitable  for  their 
combination  into  living  forms.  He  was  now  prepared  to  give 
more  coherent  shape  to  this  conception.  When  the  British 
Association  met  at  Oxford,  in  1847,  he  twice  presented  it 
for  discussion.  "  In  the  Medical  Section,  where  I  spent 
"  most  of  this  morning,"  he  wrote  to  his  wife,  on  June  25,  "  I 
"gave  some  views  which  I  had  formed  on  the  correlation  of 
"the  Vital  and  Physical  Forces  suggested  by  Mr.  Grove's 
"pamphlet.  I  shall  bring  these  forward  also  in  the  Physical 
"  Section,  where  I  think  they  will  be  better  appreciated." 
Discussions  such  as  these  helped  him  to  consolidate  his 
thoughts  ;  they  were  further  developed  in  scattered  hints 
in  the  pages  of  the  Medico- Chirurgical  Review ;  and  in  due 
time  he  felt  that  they  were  ripe  enough  for  communication  to 
the  Royal  Society.  The  following  letters,  to  his  mother,  and 
to  an  old  fellow-student,  show  the  general  drift  of  his  ideas : — 


50  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

To  Mrs.  Carpenter,  of  Bristol 

London,  1849. 

I  am  longing  for  a  little  leisure  to  write  out  my  paper  for  the 
Royal  Society,  on  the  "  Vital  and  Physical  Forces ; "  and  will 
rivOw  try  and  give  you  some  idea  of  it,  as  well  as  of  some  specu- 
lations which  have  arisen  in  my  mind  in  connection  with  it,  and 
on  which  I  should  like  to  have  your  opinion. 

The  whole  is  built  upon  the  views  that  Physical  Philosophers 
have  been  lately  coming  to — that  Light,  Heat,  Electricity,  Mag- 
netism, Chemical  Affinity,  and  Mechanical  Motion,  are  all  to  be 
regarded  as  forms  or  modes  oi force,  and  that  they  are  mutually 
convertible,  each  being  capable  of  producing  the  rest,  either 
directly  or  through  the  medium  of  electricity,  which  is  a  sort  of 
connecting  link  among  them  all.  Thus  the  friction  of  two 
similar  bodies  produces  heat ;  of  two  dissimilar,  electricity  ;  the 
heat  and  the  electricity  being  more  abundant  as  the  motion  is 
retarded,  i.e.  as  the  friction  is  greater.  Conversely  heat  and 
electricity  may  be  made  to  produce  mechanical  motion,  as  in 
the  steam-engine  and  in  the  various  electric  rotatory  machines. 
So  electricity  will  produce  heat,  and  heat  will  generate  electricity. 
Electricity  and  magnetism  are  not  identical,  as  was  once  sup- 
posed ;  but  each  will  produce  the  other,  or  may  be  converted 
into  it.  And,  as  in  all  these  cases,  the  agent  and  the  product 
are  in  a  constant  proportion  to  each  other,  it  seems  as  if 
the  same  force  were  everywhere  in  action,  though  varied  in  its 
manifestations  according  to  the  circumstances  under  which  it  is 
operating. 

Now,  I  was  first  led  to  apply  these  views  to  the  Vital  forces 
by  the  very  close  relation  that  exists  between  nervous  agency 
and  electricity.  All  the  most  recent  and  trustworthy  experi- 
ments lead  to  the  conclusion  that  the  two  are  not  identical,  as 
some  have  supposed,  but  that  they  are  very  closely  related; 
Electricity  being  able  to  generate  Nerve-force  (manifested  both 
in  musculoj  motion  and  in  sensation),  and  Nerve-force  being 
able  to  generate  electricity,  as  in  the  electric  fishes.  Carrying 
out  these  views,  I  have  brought  together  phenomena  which  in- 
dicate that  the  Nerve-force  may  be  excited  by  Heat,  Light 


THE    VITAL   AND   PHYSICAL    FORCES.  51 

Chemical  Affinity,  and  Mechanical  Motion ;  and  that  it  may  in 
turn  excite  all  these  forces.  Thus  it  appears  that  we  have  a 
right  to  say  that  Nerve-force  is  as  completely  correlated  to 
Electricity  and  the  other  physical  forces  as  they  are  to  each 
other  \  its  peculiarity  being  that  it  is  only  manifested  through  a 
certain  peculiar  material  structure.  But  this  is  not  sufficient  to 
separate  it,  though  it  keeps  it  distinct.  Until  lately  we  thought 
that  Magnetism  could  only  be  manifested  by  iron  ;  and  it  is 
only  through  a  peculiar  combination  of  metals  that  Heat  can 
be  made  to  generate  Electricity.  So  it  is  only  through  nervous 
structure  that  Electricity,  etc.,  can  generate  Nerve-force. 

From  Nerve-force  I  was  led  to  consider  other  Vital  forces,  as 
those  of  growth  and  development,  muscular  force,  the  chemical 
transformations  peculiar  to  living  bodies  and  others  ;  and  was 
able  to  reduce  them  all  to  one  general  expression,  that  of  cell- 
force  ;  all  of  these  forces  being,  in  my  apprehension,  but  varied 
expressions  of  that  which  is  manifested  in  its  simplest  form  in 
the  development  of  a  cell,  the  elementary  form  of  all  organized 
structure ;  as  is  indicated  by  the  circumstance  that  when  a  cell 
has  taken  on  one  mode  or  action,  it  seems  incapable  of 
performing  any  other,  each  peculiar  vital  endowment  being 
manifested  by  a  set  of  cells  appropriated  to  it. 

The  question  next  arises  whether  these  vital  forces  have  any 
relation  to  the  physical ;  and  guided  by  the  connection  between 
one  of  them  (Nerve-force)  and  Electricity,  I  was  led  to  look  at 
well-known  facts  in  a  new  point  of  view,  and  to  conclude  that 
the  Vital  forces  manifested  by  plants  are  really  the  Heat  and 
Light  which  they  receive,  transformed,  by  acting  through  organic 
germs,  into  cell-forces ;  so  that  the  Vital  forces  of  plants  are 
correlated  to  Heat  and  Light,  as  is  further  shown  by  the  fact  that 
certain  plants  can  generate  these  by  their  own  vital  powers. 
The  proof  is  of  the  same  kind  in  regard  to  animals ;  but  their 
dependence  on  external  Heat  is  not  so  obvious,  in  consequence 
of  a  provision  for  the  internal  production  of  heat  existing  among 
many  of  them.  But  it  is  as  true  of  them  as  of  plants,  that  the 
activity  of  their  vital  operations  is  in  direct  proportion  to  the 
measure  of  heat  which  their  bodies  receive  in  one  mode  or 
the  other.  Thus  a  frog  will  live  slow  or  fast,  just  according  as 
the  temperature  of  the  air  or  water  is  near  32°  or  80°. 


53  MEMORIAL   SKETCH 

All  this  I  have  developed  in  my  "  Comparative  Physiology  " 
— not  as  fully,  however,  as  I  could  wish.  But  I  have  there 
avoided  touching  on  the  relation  of  Mental  force  to  those 
commonly  called  Material.  I  have  been  turning  the  matter 
over  in  my  mind,  however,  and  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
we  cannot  logically  separate  them.  It  is  all  very  well  to  say 
that  Mind  and  Matter  are  distinct  entities  ;  but  we  are  talking  of 
forces,  not  of  material  substances,  and  I  cannot  see  any  reason 
for  shrinking  from  the  conclusions  to  which  the  facts  appear  to 
point.  These  conclusions  you  will  find  in  the  enclosed  note  to 
a  friend,  whose  opinion  I  much  desired.  In  addition  to  what  I 
have  said  there  of  the  action  of  the  mind  upon  the  body,  I 
might  advert  to  the  influence  of  emotional  states  in  modifying 
the  nutrition  and  secretion,  and  conversely  to  the  marvellous 
influence  of  a  slight  contamination  of  the  blood  on  the  emotional 
states. 

To  Dr.  Paget. 

I  have  been  thinking  much  more  about  Mental  phenomena, 
and  have  been  questioning  within  myself  whether  Mental  force 
should  not  be  brought  into  the  general  category  of  the  Vital 
forces,  on  the  grounds  that  Nervous  force  excites  Mental  force 
(as  in  sensation  giving  origin  to  Mental  operations),  and  con- 
versely Mental  force  excites  Nervous  force  (as  in  emotional  or 
volitional  actions).  It  seems  to  me  impossible  to  deny  that 
this  correlation  is  as  complete  as  those  existing  among  the 
physical  forces ;  whatever  we  may  think  of  the  degree  in  which 
the  higher  phenomena  of  mind  are  dependent  upon  material 
conditions.  Further,  Nervous  force  is,  in  the  animal  body,  that 
kind  of  connecting  link  between  Mental  force  and  the  Physical 
forces  which  Electricity  (as  Grove  has  shown)  often  is  among 
the  Physical  forces  themselves,  one  being  often  convertible  into 
another  through  the  medium  of  electricity,  which  is  not  thus 
convertible  directly.  But  if  such  a  correlation  really  exists 
between  Mental  and  Vital  and  Physical  forces,  that  the  one 
may  even  indirectly  produce  the  other,  may  we  not  regard  all 
the  physical  forces  of  the  universe  as  the  direct  manifestation  of 
the  Mental  force  of  the  Deity  ?  I  believe  that  I  could  find 
very  orthodox  testimony  in  support  of  some  such  view.     Locke 


THE    VITAL   AND   PHYSICAL    FORCES.  53 

argues  that  all  notion  of  power  is  derived  from  our  conscious- 
ness of  effort  (a  doctrine  advanced  as  novel  by  later  philosophers), 
and  that  the  existence  of  the  powers  of  nature  thus  necessarily 
leads  us  back  to  a  mental  source  for  them.  It  is  to  me  very 
interesting  to  find  the  two  lines  of  argument— the  one  starting 
from  the  correlation  of  the  Physical,  Vital,  and  Mental  forces, 
as  indicated  by  objective  facts  ;  the  other  from  the  analysis  of 
our  own  subjective  consciousness — which,  so  far  from  being  in 
any  way  irreverent,  only  gives  a  new  argument  for  the  existence 
of  an  Intelligent  First  Cause. 

From  this  point  of  view  I  should  look  upon  the  whole 
Kosmos  as  the  corporeity  of  the  Deity,  a  doctrine  which  some 
may  think  pantheistic,  but  which  seems  to  me  necessarily  to 
follow  from  that  of  his  universal  and  immediate  agency,  which 
I  cannot  but  regard  as  the  highest  method  of  viewing  his  modus 
operandi.  Thus  I  should  regard  the  mutual  correlation  of 
mental  forces  as  enabling  one  mind  to  act  on  another  directly 
or  indirectly,  according  to  the  means  of  communication,  that  of 
the  Deity  upon  man  directly,  that  of  man  upon  man  indirectly. 
The  correlation  of  the  Mental  and  Vital  forces  is  manifested  on 
the  large  scale  in  the  phenomena  of  life,  and  the  direct  result  of 
the  Divine  agency ;  on  a  smaller  and  more  limited  scale  in  the 
mutual  relations  of  mental  and  corporeal  activity  in  man.  The  .- 
correlation  of  the  Mental  and  Physical  is  manifested  in  the  way 
in  which  man  acts  on  external  nature,  and  is  acted  upon  by  it, 
through  the  medium  of  Nervous  force,  but  more  directly  in  the 
phenomena  of  the  material  universe  considered  as  the  immediate 
expression  of  the  Divine  will. 

In  working  out  such  speculations  it  will,  of  course,  be  very 
difficult  to  avoid  shocking  the  prejudices  of  some  good  and  wise 
people ;  but  I  do  not  mind  this  if  the  philosophy  of  them  will 
bear  a  rigid  examination,  as  I  am  certain  that  in  the  end  they 
will  tend  to  render  our  ideas  of  the  Divine  agency  more  definite, 
and  at  the  same  time  to  elevate  our  conceptions  of  it,  by  showing 
that  in  every  way  in  which  we  feel  ourselves  limited,  the  Deity 
is  unlimited,  his  mind  exerting  itself  directly  and  universally  in 
every  class  of  phenomena. 

The  views  indicated  in  the  first  of  these  letters  were 


54  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

embodied  In  a  memoir  "  On  the  Mutual  Relations  of  the 
Vital  and  Physical  Forces,"  chiefly  written  in  1849,  and 
communicated  in  1850  to  the  Royal  Society.  To  this  paper 
Dr.  Carpenter  looked  back  in  after-years  as  one  of  his  most 
original  productions.  He  did  not  seek  in  it,  he  said,  "to 
"  increase  the  knowledge  of  existing  facts,  so  much  as  to 
"develop  new  relations  between  those  already  known."  Its 
main  thesis  was  that  what  is  called  "  vital  force "  really 
has  its  origin  in  solar  light  and  heat,  not  (as  generally 
taught  up  to  that  date)  in  a  power  inherent  in  the  germ  ; 
that  which  the  germ  supplies,  according  to  his  views,  being 
the  directive  agency  by  which  forces  derived  ab  externo  are 
used  in  the  building-up  and  maintenance  of  the  organism. 
The  paper  was  at  first  regarded  as  too  abstract  and  hypo- 
thetical, and  some  doubt  was  expressed  as  to  its  admission 
into  the  "  Philosophical  Transactions."  It  ultimately  ap- 
peared there  in  185 1  ;  but  it  made  little  impression  at  the 
time.  Its  line  of  argument,  however,  secured  more  and 
m.ore  attention,  and  its  conclusions  were  finally  accepted  as 
a  part  of  the  general  doctrine  of  the  "  Conservation  of 
Energy,"  which  had  been  previously  promulgated  by  Mayer 
and  Helmholtz,  but  was  not  at  that  time  known  beyond 
Germany.* 

V. 

While  these  speculations  were  occupying  Dr.  Carpenter's 
thought,  he  was  at  the  same  time  slowly  elaborating  a  view 

*  See  the  passages  from  the  article  entitled,  "  The  Phasis  of  Force,"  below, 
p.  173.  In  a  lecture  on  "  Present  Aspects  of  Physiology  "  (Edinburgh,  1874), 
Professor  Rutherford  said,  "  Much  of  the  present  aspect  of  physiology  is  owing 
"  to  Ludwig,  who  introduced  into  biological  study  the  graphic  method  of  record- 
"  ing  movement  invented  by  Thomas  Young;  to  Carpenter,  who  applied  to 
"  pliysiological  phenomena  Grove's  principle  of  the  correlation  ol  force,  and  so, 
"  much  about  the  same  time  as  Mayer  and  independently  of  him,  paved  the  way 
"  to  the  application  to  physiology  of  Joule  and  Helmholtz's  great  principle  of 
"  the  conservation  of  energy  ;  much  of  it  is  owing  to  Du  Bois  Reymond,  on 
"  account  of  his  researches  on  animal  electricity," 


DETERMINISM  AND   SELF-DIRECTION  55 

of  the  nervous  system  and  the  functions  of  the  brain  which 
was  destined  to  overthrow  the   entire   fabric   of  his   early- 
determinism.     His  interest  in  these  problems  dated  from 
his  student-days  at  Edinburgh  ;    and  they  had  been   dis- 
cussed, though   somewhat  briefly,  and    on    the  lines  then 
usually  accepted,  in  the  first    editions  of  his   treatise  on 
"  Human  Physiology."    But  a  marked  advance  was  made  in 
the  year   1846,  by   the    publication    of  an    article    in    the 
British  and  Foreign  Medical  Reviczv,  on  Mr.  Noble's  work 
on  "  The   Brain    and   its  Physiology."     In   this   essay,  Dr. 
Carpenter  discussed  the  true  methods  of  investigation  into 
the   physiology  of  the   brain,    with    especial    reference    to 
phrenology,  whose    supposed    scientific    foundations    were 
completely  demolished.     Pie  then  proceeded  to  extend  the 
idea  of  reflex  action  to  the  centres  of  sensation  and  idea- 
tion, and,  as  a  writer  in  the  Times  observed  after  his  death, 
"enunciated,  with  a  completeness  which  has  stood  the  test 
"  of  time,  the  fundamental  notions  of '  consensual '  and  '  ideo- 
"  motor  '  action."  *     Mr.  Noble  was  converted,  and  became 
one  of  his  critic's  warmest  friends.     And   Mr.  J.  S.  Mill 
wrote  from  the  India  House  to  express  his  admiration  and 
assent : — 

I  should  have  been  truly  vexed  not  to  have  heard  imme- 
diately of  such  a  valuable  contribution  to  science  as  your  paper, 
I  have  read  it  once  with  great  care,  but  I  must  read  it  a  second 
time  before  I  can  have  completely  incorporated  it  with  my 
system  of  thought.  I  have  long  thought  that  you  were  the 
person  who  would  set  to  rights  the  pretensions  of  present  and 
the  possibilities  of  future  phrenology  ;  but  I  did  not  venture  to 
hope  that  I  should  see,  so  soon,  anything  approaching  in  com- 
pleteness and  conclusiveness  to  this. 

The  doctrine  of  the  will  remained  in  the  background  in 

this  essay;  but  it  quickly  forced  its  way  into  Dr.  Carpenter's 

*  Dr.  Carpenter's  own  summary  of  his  conclusions  at  this  period  will  be 
found  below,  p.  159. 


56  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

psychology,  through  the  study  of  abnormal  mental  con- 
ditions, and  the  attention  which  he  bestowed  on  mesmerism, 
electro-biology,  and  other  fashionable  aberrations.  In 
January,  1847,  he  contributed  to  his  Review  an  article  on 
Dr.  Moreau's  "  Psychological  Studies  on  Hachisch  and  on 
Mental  Derangement."  The  book  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  him,  for  it  enabled  him  to  grasp  as  he  had  never  done 
before  the  significance  of  the  control  exerted  by  the  will  in 
a  mind  of  healthy  activity  over  its  own  trains  of  thought. 

One  of  the  first  appreciable  effects  of  the  hachisch  (he  wrote) 
is  the  gradual  weakening  of  that  power  of  voluntarily  controlling 
and  directing  the  thoughts,  which  is  so  characteristic  of  the 
vigorous  mind.  The  individual  feels  himself  incapable  of  fixing 
his  attention  upon  any  subject ;  his  thoughts  being  continually 
drawn  off  by  a  succession  of  ideas  which  force  themselves  (as 
it  were)  into  his  mind,  without  his  being  able  in  the  least  to 
trace  their  origin.  These  speedily  occupy  his  attention,  and 
present  themselves  in  strange  combinations,  so  as  to  produce 
the  most  fantastic  and  impossible  creations.  By  a  strong  effort 
of  the  will,  however,  the  original  thread  of  the  ideas  may  still 
be  recovered,  and  the  interlopers  may  be  driven  away,  their 
remembrance,  however,  being  preserved,  like  that  of  a  dream 
recalling  events  long  since  past.  These  lucid  intervals,  how- 
ever, become  of  shorter  duration,  and  can  be  less  frequently 
procured  by  a  voluntary  effort  ;  for  the  internal  tempest  becomes 
more  violent,  the  torrents  of  disconnected  ideas  are  so  powerful 
as  completely  to  arrest  the  attention,  and  the  mind  is  gradually 
withdrawn  altogether  from  the  contemplation  of  external  realities, 
being  conscious  only  of  its  own  internal  workings. 

The  phenomena  of  hypnotism  also  excited  Dr.  Car- 
penter's interest,  for  they  threw  further  light  on  the  con- 
ditions of  the  mind's  activity  when  its  volitional  control 
was  suspended,  and  led  him  to  reflect  on  the  influence  of 
mental  states  on  muscular  feeling  and  exertion  in  the 
presence  of  certain   powerful    ideas  which   the  sensations 


DETERMINISM  AND    SELF-DIRECTION.  57 

failed  to  correct.  The  study  of  a  number  of  criminal  trials 
brought  clearly  before  his  view  the  forces  of  different 
passions  and  propensities,  and  the  relative  feebleness  of  the 
checks  imposed  upon  them  by  the  will.  In  the  discussion 
of  insanity  and  of  responsibility  for  acts  of  violence,  he 
found  himself  compelled  to  analyze  the  whole  processes  of 
the  moral  life,  and  his  results  were  surprisingly  different  in 
1847  from  those  which  he  had  previously  announced  in 
1845.*  Starting  from  the  frequent  experience  of  moral 
conflict  between  (for  example)  the  duty  of  a  professional 
visit  to  a  patient  needing  aid,  and  the  desire  to  escape  a 
wet  ride  or  to  avoid  bringing  home  infection,  he  inquired  in 
what  lay  the  deciding  power.  Rejecting  the  current  ex- 
planations of  the  autocratic  nature  of  conscience  or  the 
moral  sense,  which  pronounced  directly  on  the  right  or 
wrong  of  any  action,  he  expressed  his  sympathy  with  a 
view  of  its  real  function  propounded  shortly  before  by  an 
"anonymous  critic,"  in  the  Prospective  Review,  who  affirmed 
that  moral  good  was  not  a  quality  resident  in  actions,  but 
that  ethical  judgments  were  always  relative,  and  involved  a 
preference  for  one  spring  of  action  over  another.! 

We  cannot,  therefore  (said  Dr.  Carpenter),  attach  a  moral 
character  to  the  actions  of  animals  that  are  performed  under 
the  direction  of  a  blind  undesigning  instinct,  which  operates  in 
them  as  the  spring  which  moves  an  automaton,  leaving  them 
no  choice  between  one  course  and  another ;  nor  can  we  say 
that  a  human  action  is  in  itself  morally  wrong  as  regards  the 
individual,  when  it  directly  results  from  a  violent  iminilse  which 
he  has  no  power  to  restrain.  .  .  .  According  to  this  view,  then, 
what  is  termed  conscience  is  nothing  else  than  the  idea  of  right 

*  The  following  quotations  are  from  an  article  in  the  British  and  Foreign 
Medico- Chiriirgical  kevie-.u,  July,  1847,  entitled,  "Dr.  M.i)oonthe  Relations 
of  Crime,  Insanity,  and  Punishment." 

t  The  "  anonymous  critic  "  was  Mr.  (now  Dr.)  Martineau,  who  thus  sketched 
in  his  article  on  Whewell's  "Elements  of  Morality  "  the  outlines  of  the  ethical 
system  now  expounded  in  the  second  volume  of  his  "Types  of  Ethical  Theory." 


58  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

or  wrong  character  which  becomes  attached  to  an  action, 
when  we  place  in  comparison  the  motives  which  prompted  it ; 
and  this  idea  is  entirely  dependent  on  the  relative  worth  or 
value  in  the  moral  scale  which  we  have  been  accustomed  to 
assign  to  the  different  classes  of  motives.  The  moral  rule  of 
action  hence  consists  in  the  preference  of  a  higher  to  a  lower 
motive  or  combination  of  motives.  But  it  will  of  course  be 
asked  how  are  the  relative  values  of  these  motives  to  be  deter- 
mined ;  and  the  answer  is,  simply,  by  the  universal  conscious- 
ness of  mankind,  which  is  found  to  be  more  and  more  accordant 
in  this  respect,  the  more  faithfully  it  is  interpreted,  and  the  more 
fully  the  general  mind  is  expanded  and  enlightened.  It  is  this 
tendency  towards  universal  agreement  upon  this  fundamental 
point  which  leads  us  to  feel  satisfied  that  there  will  in  the  end 
be  as  good  a  foundation  for  a  science  of  morals  in  the 
psychical  constitution  of  man,  as  there  is  for  that  of  music  in 
the  pleasure  which  he  derives  from  certain  combinations  of 
sounds. 

Among  these  various  springs  of  action,  what  is   the 
function  of  the  will } 

[It  is]  not  only  concerned  in  carrying  into  effect  the  sug- 
gestions of  the  desires.  In  the  well-regulated  mind  it  ought  to 
have  a  controlling  influence  over  the  desires  themselves,  so  as 
to  prevent  them  from  exercising  themselves  with  undue  force. 
This  is,  in  fact,  the  power  known  as  self-control — a  power  which 
cannot  be  too  early  cultivated  or  too  habitually  exercised.  Now, 
we  believe  that  much  may  be  learned  by  observation  of  infantile 
life  of  the  nature  of  this  power.  When  a  young  child  gives  way 
to  a  fit  of  passion,  the  nurse  attempts  to  restore  its  equanimity 
by  presenting  some  new  object  to  its  attention,  so  that  the  more 
recent  and  vivid  pleasurable  impression  may  efface  the  sense  of 
past  uneasiness.  As  the  child  grows  older,  the  judicious  mother 
teaches  it  self-control,  by  calling  up  in  its  mind  such  motives  as 
it  is  capable  of  appreciating ;  the  act  of  self-control  being  the 
result  of  the  overpowering  influence  of  the  higher  motives  sug- 
gested to  it  over  the  lower  or  selhsh  emotions  which  we  desire 
to  bring  into  subjection. 


DETERMINISM  AND   SELF-DIRECTION.  59 

The  development  of  this  power  was  the  object  of  all  true 
education  ;  and  special  stress  was  laid  on  the  appeal  to  the 
highest  motives  within  the  child's  comprehension. 

In  laying  down  these  principles,  Dr.  Carpenter  had,  in 
fact,  been  taking  lessons  in  his  own  nursery.  They  were 
the  principles  he  was  himself  learning  to  apply.  The  reader 
will  perhaps  forgive  the  triviality  of  an  anecdote  which 
throws  light  on  these  notions  of  moral  discipline.  Re- 
quiring one  day  a  supply  of  hydrogen  for  purposes  of  lecture 
illustration,  he  called  his  three  boys  into  his  study  to  see 
him  granulate  the  zinc  to  be  employed  in  its  preparation. 
The  melted  metal  was  in  an  iron  ladle  on  the  fire,  and  he 
began  slowly  to  pour  it  into  a  basin  of  cold  water,  with  a 
natural  accompaniment  of  sputtering.  The  youngest  of  the 
trio,  famous  in  the  family  for  a  peculiar  roar  known  as  the 
"square  mouth,"  was  frightened,  and  began  to  cry.  His 
father  bade  him  control  himself  and  be  quiet,  but  the 
admonition  was  without  effect.  A  threat  to  send  him  out 
of  the  room  proved  equally  vain.  "  But  it  shows  you  don't 
trust  me,"  remonstrated  his  father.  The  boy  checked  his 
cries  at  once  and  was  still. 

The  problem  here  was  reduced  to  very  simple  elements. 
But  in  more  complex  cases,  the  process  was,  in  Dr.  Car- 
penter's view,  essentially  the  same. 

The  will  (he  said),  by  a  peculiar  effort,  represses  the 
vehemence  of  one  class  of  motives  by  forcibly  withdrawing  the 
attention  from  them  and  directing  it  to  another  of  a  higher 
character.  .  .  .  The  mind,  thus  swayed  hither  and  thither  by 
various  motives  contending  for  the  mastery,  is  at  last  decided 
by  those  which  present  themselves  most  forcibly  before  it ;  and 
it  is  in  keeping  some  in  the  background,  and  bringing  others 
into  clearer  view,  that  the  power  of  the  will  seems  to  be  exerted 
in  modifying  the  decision. 

Here  is  the  germ  of  much  of  his  later  doctrine  as  to  the 


6o  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

true  character  of  volitional  as  distinguished  from  automatic 
action.  It  involved  a  free  surrender  of  the  earlier  deter- 
minism. From  this  time  he  ceased  to  teach  that  all  human 
actions  were  "  the  results  of  the  operation  of  circumstances 
"  upon  the  mental  constitution  of  each  individual  according 
"  to  fixed  laws."  He  recognized  the  share  which  each  man 
may  take  in  the  formation  of  his  own  character.  This 
thought  grew  in  importance  as  his  observation  and  ex- 
perience extended.  He  studied  the  type  of  spontaneous 
activity  presented  by  the  musical  genius  of  Mozart,  in 
whom  the  creative  energy  was  at  its  height  while  the  will 
was  weak  and  impulse  strong  ;  and  he  took  the  keenest 
interest  in  the  mental  action  of  Coleridge,  whose  life  he 
regarded  "  as  a  sort  of  waking  dream,  in  regard  to  the 
"  deficiency  of  that  self-determining  power  which  is  the  pre- 
"  eminent  characteristic  of  every  great  mind."  Convinced 
that  the  true  nature  of  volitional  action  would  be  best 
understood  by  the  examination  of  those  states  in  which  the 
will  is  completely  in  abeyance,  he  set  himself  to  investigate 
the  condition  in  which  the  courses  of  thought  were  entirely 
determined  by  the  influence  of  suggestions  upon  the  mind, 
and  to  compare  this  with  the  habitual  control  and  direction 
exerted  in  the  formation  of  a  decision  between  various 
plans  of  action.  This  line  of  inquiry  was  in  part  physio- 
logical and  in  part  psychological :  its  base  lay  in  the 
nervous  system,  from  which  it  was  carried  up  into  the 
operations  of  the  consciousness.  A  few  passages  from  an 
article  on  "  The  Physiology  and  Diseases  of  the  Nervous 
System,"  published  in  his  Review  for  January,  1850,*  will 
show  the  progress  which  he  was  making  in  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  mechanism  of  action  and  its  relation  to  feelings 
and  ideas  ;  his  doctrine,  that  the  will  determines  the  result, 
while  the  automatic  apparatus  of  the  body  supplies  the 

*  See  below,  p.  164. 


DETERMINISM  AND   SELF-DIRECTION.  6i 

means  for  voluntary  action,  having  especial  importance. 
Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  was  so  much  impressed  with  the  value  of 
the  principles  thus  indicated  that  he  wrote  to  congratulate 
the  author  on  an  — 

additional  step  in  advance  in  the  most  important  inquiry  in 
all  physiology,  viz,  that  most  directly  connected  with  psychology. 
I  have  long  looked  to  you  (he  added)  as  the  great  living  guide 
in  this  advancing  speculation,  both  by  your  own  speculative 
powers,  and  by  the  clearness  and  philosophical  discrimination 
with  which  you  conceive  and  judge  the  results  arrived  at  by 
others. 

The  general  view  of  the  distinction  between  automatic 
and  volitional  action  at  which  Dr.  Carpenter  had  now 
arrived,  was  completed  by  the  proof  of  the  reflex  activity 
of  the  brain,  which  had  been  first  suggested  by  Dr.  Laycock. 
The  peculiar  phenomena  known  under  the  name  of  Electro- 
Biology,  which  then  attracted  so  much  public  attention, 
afforded  Dr.  Carpenter  many  opportunities  of  testing  his 
conclusions ;  and  in  a  lecture  delivered  at  the  Royal 
Institution,  in  March,  1852,  "  On  the  Influence  of  Suggestion 
in  modifying  and  directing  Muscular  Movement,  inde- 
pendently of  Volition,"  he  expounded  the  connection  which 
he  believed  to  subsist  between  the  different  modes  of  action 
of  the  nervous  system.*  The  power  of  ideas  to  produce 
respondent  movements  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
cerebrum  was  illustrated  by  the  states  of  electro-biology 
and  somnambulism,  when  the  controlling  power  of  the 
will  was  suspended.  The  ideo-motor  principle  of  action 
being  thus  established  at  the  head  of  the  physiological 
scale,  it  was  easily  applied  to  many  of  the  phenomena  ot 
mesmerism  and  spiritualism,  which  depended  on  the  state 
of  expectant  attention.  In  this  condition  the  abstraction  of 
the  mind  laid  the  will  to  rest,  and  the  anticipation  of  a 
*  See  the  extracts  from  the  Report  below,  p.  169. 


62  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

given  result  served  as  the  stimulus  which  involuntarily 
prompted  the  muscles  to  produce  it.  An  article  in  the 
Quarterly  Review  for  October,  1853,  enabled  him  to  answer 
the  question,  "  What  are  we  to  believe  ?  "  as  to  mesmerism, 
electro-biology,  odylism,  table-turning,  spirit-rapping,  and 
table-talking,  on  physiological  principles,  and  led  him  to 
offer  an  earnest  plea  for  the  proper  discipline  of  the  auto- 
matic apparatus  of  man's  nature  by  his  will. 

The    study   of    human    nature    (he    urged),   physical,    in- 
tellectual, moral,  and  spiritual,  is  far  too  much  neglected  in  our 
educational  arrangements.     That  the  preservation  of  corporeal 
health  is  in  great   degree  dependent  upon  the  observance  of 
the  rules  dictated  by  physiological  science,  and  that  a  general 
knowledge  of  the  structure  and  functions  of  man's  l>ody  is  really 
worth  his  possession  for  its  own  sake,  is  gradually  coming  to  be 
generally  acknowledged.     We  would    urge,   however,   that  an 
acquaintance  with  his  ?nind  is  not  one  whit  the  less  desirable 
for  the  right  development  of  its  powers  and  for  tlie  preservation 
of  its  health.     We  have  seen  in  the  various  phenomena  we  have 
been  discussing  how  largely  the  will  is  concerned  in  all  those 
higher  exercises  of  the  reasoning  powers,  even  upon  the  most 
commonplace   subjects,   by   which   our   conduct  ought  to   be 
governed ;   and  how   important  it  is  that   the  automatic  ten- 
dencies, of  whatever  nature,  should  be  entirely  subjugated  by  it. 
We  are  satisfied,  from  extensive  observation,  that  in  a  large  pro- 
portion of  cases  of  insanity,  the  disorder  is  mainly  attributable 
to  the  want  of  acquirement,  in  early  life,  of  proper  volitional 
control  over  the  current  of  thought ;  so  that  the  mind  cannot 
free    itself  from  the  tyranny  of  any  propensity  or  idea  which 
once   acquires   an   undue  predominance.      The  deficiency   of 
power  to  repel  the  fascinations  of  some  attractive  delusion  that 
appeals  to  the  vanity,  to  the  love  of  the  marvellous,  or  to  some 
other  respective  predisposition,  by  employing  the  reason  to  strip 
off  its  specious  disguise  and  expose  its  latent  absurdities,  really 
proceeds  from  a  want  of  the  same  kind,  the  supply  of  which 
ought  to  be  one  of  the  prominent  objects  of  educational  culture 
in  every  grade. 


DETERMINISM  AND   SELF-DIRECTION.  63 

Dr.  Carpenter  had,  indeed,  endeavoured  himself  to  pro- 
vide an  instrument  for  such  culture.  The  fourth  edition  of 
his  "  Human  Physiology,"  which  was  completed  in  1852  and 
issued  in  1853,  contained  a  full  outline  of  his  vijws  on  the 
nervous  system.*  It  was  his  habit  in  preparing  successive 
editions  of  his  large  treatises  to  expand  them  by  the  in- 
corporation of  the  latest  researches  ;  but  this  did  not 
generally  involve  any  fundamental  reconstruction,  though 
sometimes  three-fourths  or  four-fifths  of  the  actual  matter 
might  be  fresh.  In  this  case,  however,  the  whole  division 
of  the  work  was  wrought  anew  from  the  beginning.  He 
rejected  at  the  outset  the  doctrine  that  man's  character  was 
formed  for  him  and  not  (in  part,  at  least)  by  him  ;  appealed 
to  his  consciousness  of  possessing  a  self-determining  power  ; 
and  then  proceeded  to  expand  and  enforce  the  conceptions 
to  which  in  his  previous  writings  he  had  given  partial  ex- 
pression. Without  hesitation  he  boldly  carried  the  idea  of 
automatic  action  into  the  intellectual  products  of  the  brain 
itself  under  the  name  of  "  unconscious  cerebration,"  while  he 
carefully  discriminated  from  all  forms  of  reflex  operation 
the  voluntary  control  which  should  reign  supreme  over  all. 
This  intelligent  volition  he  recognized  as  the  source  of  the 
power  we  determinately  exert  through  our  bodily  organism 
upon  the  world  around.  Here  he  found  the  origin  of  that 
conception  of  force  which  he  discerned  behind  every 
phenomenon  of  the  external  universe,  and  this  supplied 
him  with  a  new  basis  for  his  interpretation  of  the  visible 
scene  as  the  constant  realization  of  Divine  Thought  and 
Will.  To  the  development  of  these  views  he  returned 
twenty  years  later  ;  and  the  last  decade  of  his  life,  as  the 
essays    in    this   volume    will    show,   was    largely  occupied 

•  In  ncl<no\vledL;ing  the  receipt  of  a  copy  of  this  edition,  his  former  teacher, 
Professor  \V.  I*.  AHson,  of  Edinburgh,  wrote  :  "  I  liavc  lound  in  your  (Hscussion 
"  of  the  nervous  system  and  its  physiology  much  that  was  new  to  me,  much  that 
"  is  original,  and  nothuig  but  what  is  valuable." 


64  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

with   the   endeavour    to   expound    them   with    reiterated 
emphasis. 

Side  by  side  with  the  treatise  on  "  Human  Physiology  " 
stood  the  "  Principles  of  General  and  Comparative  Physi- 
ology," of  which  the  third  edition  appeared  in  1851,*  and 
the  fourth  in  1854.  Of  the  place  which  these  books  filled 
in  the  medical  and  scientific  education  of  the  time,  and  the 
author's  share  in  the  direction  of  modern  thought  through 
them,  a  brief  estimate  is  offered  in  the  words  of  those  most 
qualified  to  speak.  Dr.  Carpenter  used  himself  in  earlier 
days  to  say  that  the  greatest  honour  he  had  ever  received 
was  to  be  told  by  Von  Baer  that  he  had  read  one  of  his 
Physiologies  on  the  shores  of  the  Caspian. 

I  believe  (writes  Sir  James  Paget),  that  among  all  the  events 
which  have  had  great  influence  on  the  teaching  of  physiology 
in  our  medical  schools,  none  has  been  more  important  than 
the  institution  of  separate  courses  of  physiological  lectures. 
The  whole  subject,  so  far  as  it  was  taught  at  all,  used  to  be 
included  in  the  course  on  anatomy,  and  was  regarded  as  far 
less  important  than  the  applications  of  anatomy  in  the  practice 
of  surgery.  The  change  began  between  forty  and  fifty  years 
ago,  and  among  many  things  proving  its  necessity,  none,  I  think, 
had  more  influence  than  the  publication  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  two 
principal  works  in  1839  and  1842.  Their  influence  coincided 
with  those  exercised  by  Dr.  Sharpey's  teaching  and  the  transla- 
tion of  Midler's  "  Physiologie  des  Menschen,"  and  with  the  con- 
stantly increasing  interest  in  physiology  which  was  sdrred  by 
the  teachings  of  Owen,  Liebig,  and  Goodsir,  by  Dr.  Marshall 
Hall's  works  on  the  reflex  functions  of  the  spinal  cord,  and  by 
Kiernan's  essay  on  the  minute  structure  of  the  liver,  and 
Bowman's  on  that  of  the  kidney. 

It  is  impossible  to  measure  the  influence  of  each  of  these ; 
but  their  number  and  importance  are  enough  to  prove  that  the 

*  The  labour  involved  in  the  production  of  such  books  may  be  in  part 
estimated  from  the  fact  that  out  of  the  loSo  pages  of  which  the  new  volume 
consisted,  only  15 1  belonged  to  the  previous  edition.  The  general  plan,  how- 
ever, remained  the  same. 


INFLUENCE   AS   A    PHYSIOLOGIST.  65 

period  in  which  Dr.  Carpenter's  chief  works  were  first  pubHshed 
was  one  of  active  research  and  real  progress.  The  range  of 
physiology  was  rapidly  enlarging,  and  the  need  of  having  it  much 
more  thoroughly  taught  in  the  medical  schools  was  constantly 
becoming  more  evident.  Nothing  could  better  both  prove  and 
supply  this  need  than  did  Dr.  Carpenter's  books,  collecting  and 
teaching  as  they  did  all  that  the  best  and  latest  researches  of 
the  time  was  making  sure  or  probable.  They  proved  that 
physiology  could  not  reasonably  be  regarded  as  of  second-rate 
importance  in  medical  education,  and  to  many  they  supplied  the 
means  of  teaching  it.  Gradually  the  schools  adopted  the  plan 
of  having  the  lectures  on  physiology  and  histology  completely 
separate  from  those  on  anatomy,  and  coextensive  with  them  ; 
many  of  the  teachers  became  physiologists,  and  did  good  original 
work,  and  encouraged  their  pupils  to  imitate  them  ;  and  the 
whole  subject  was  taught  in  its  relations  with  medicine  as  well 
as  surgery. 

I  think  that  no  change  more  important  than  this  has  been 
made  in  our  medical  schools  during  the  last  half-century;  and 
that  no  one  contributed  to  it  more  than  Dr.  Carpenter.  For 
many  years  his  books  were  almost  without  a  rival  in  the  London 
schools;  Mayo's  "  Physiology  "  soon  ceased  to  be  read;  the  trans- 
lations of  Tiedemann  and  Blumenbach  were  disused  ;  the  trans- 
lation of  Miiller's  "  Physiology  "  was  too  large,  and  in  some  parts 
too  difficuh,  for  any  but  the  best  students.  And  this  continued 
till  physiology  became  a  subject  of  examination  for  diploma, 
and  smaller  books  were  required  with  more  simple  recitals  of 
admitted  facts,  and  with  less  argument  and  reasoning. 

I  cannot  speak  from  sufficient  personal  knowledge  of  Dr. 
Carpenter's  influence  as  an  oral  teacher;  but  I  believe  it  was 
similar,  though  not  equal,  to  that  which  he  exercised  as  a  writer, 
and,  especially,  was  marked,  as  were  his  books,  by  his  power  of 
clearly  expounding,  even  while  condensing,  all  that  he  could 
learn  in  even  the  widest  study  of  each  subject  that  he  taught. 
He  was  always  earnest  and  enthusiastic  ;  he  could  say  exactly 
what  he  knew  and  believed  ;  and  he  used  to  speak  as  if  he 
wished  his  hearers  to  have  the  same  pleasure  as  he  himself  had 
enjoyed  in  learning  what  he  had  to  tell. 

But  Dr.  Carpenter's  influence  on  the  progress  and  teaching 


66  MEMORIAL    SKETCH. 

of  physiology  was  not  nearly  limited  to  that  of  his  chief  books 
or  to  the  time  at  which  it  began  to  be  felt  and  was  most  potent. 
All  through  his  life  he  was  among  the  most  active  in  the  promo- 
tion of  research,  in  discussions  whether  in  public  or  in  private, 
in  reviewing,  in  exciting  others  to  work.  He  constantly  main- 
tained or  enlarged  the  wide  range  of  physiology  in  which  he  had 
begun ;  and  however  definitely  he  might  state  facts  already 
known  on  any  subject,  he  never  seemed  to  imply  that  they 
were  complete  or  final,  or  that  the  general  principles  of  which 
they  were  evidences  did  not  admit  of  wider  application.  An 
admirable  example  of  this  was  in  his  extension  of  the  principle 
of  reflex  action  in  the  nervous  centres.  The  doctrine  of  the 
reflex  action  of  the  spinal  cord,  as  expounded  by  Dr.  Marshall 
Hall,  was  at  the  time  so  complete  and  compact  that  it  seemed 
to  produce  in  some  minds  a  feeling  of  final  satisfaction  and 
repose.  It  did  not  so  with  him,  and,  as  the  result  of  his  careful 
thinking,  he  showed  that  power  like  that  of  the  spinal  cord  exists 
and  does  far  higher  work  in  portions  of  the  brain. 

This  may,  I  believe,  be  regarded  as  his  best  contribution 
to  physiology.  It  is,  indeed,  a  rare  example  of  accurate  think- 
ing, and  the  best  instance  of  his  exercise  of  a  power  by  which 
he  may  always  have  renown  among  lecturers  and  writers  on 
science.  Its  principles  expanded  and  became  clearer  as  they 
passed  through  his  mind  beLween  the  leai-ning  and  the  teaching 
of  them. 

My  contemporaries  in  the  medical  profession  (says  Mr. 
Huxley),  the  old  men  who  were  young  men  commencing  their 
studies  forty  or  five  and  forty  years  ago,  will,  I  am  sure,  recog- 
nize as  gratefully  as  I  do  our  indebtedness  to  Dr.  Carpenter's 
"  Human  Physiology,"  It  was  the  standard  work  on  the  sub- 
ject in  this  country  at  that  time,  and  it  retained  its  high  and 
well-deserved  reputation  for  some  thirty  years. 

The  "  forties "  constituted  a  period  of  transition  between 
the  old  physiology  and  the  new,  between  the  science  of  Haller 
and  Bichat  and  the  science  of  Ludwig  and  Claude  Bernard. 
The  microscope  was  opening  a  new  world  to  the  anatomist  and 
the  embryolcgist  \  while  properly  conceived  and  executed  ex- 
perimental investigations  of  the  properties  of  living  matter  were 


INFLUENCE   AS  A    PHYSIOLOGIST.  67 

leading  by  the  only  possible  road  to  the  explication  of  the 
complex  operations  known  as  functions. 

Dr,  Carpenter  undertook  the  important  office  of  inter- 
mediary between  the  rapidly  accumulating  masses  of  new 
knowledge  and  the  student  of  physiology.  Sifting,  condens- 
ing, and  methodically  arranging  the  materials  and  embodying 
the  results  in  an  admirably  lucid  style,  he  produced  a  com- 
pendium of  great  excellence.  And,  although  the  greater  part 
of  the  work  was  not  enriched  by  any  observations  personal  to 
the  author,  there  was  much  that  was  original  in  the  mode  of 
treatment  of  the  various  topics.  This  is  particularly  true  of 
the  chapters  on  the  nervous  system.  I  conceive  that  in  these 
chapters,  and  in  subsequent  independent  writings.  Dr.  Carpenter 
contributed  in  no  small  degree  to  the  foundation  of  a  rational, 
that  is  to  say,  a  physiological  psychology. 

While  the  "  Principles  of  Human  Physiology "  not  only 
played  a  leading  part  in  the  scientific  education  of  successive 
generations  of  medical  practitioners,  but  was  widely  read  by  the 
public  at  large,  the  "  Principles  of  Comparative  Physiology," 
of  which  the  first  edition  was  published  in  1838,  did  still  more 
important  service.* 

The  book  has  the  title,  and  in  some  respects  resembles  a 
well-known  treatise  by  the  eminent  French  savant  Duges.  But 
it  is  a  very  much  better  piece  of  work,  and,  to  my  mind,  con- 
tains by  far  the  best  general  survey  of  the  whole  field  of  life  and 
of  the  broad  principles  of  Biology  which  had  been  produced  up 
to  the  time  of  its  publication.  Indeed,  although  the  fourth  edition 
is  now  in  many  respects  out  of  date,  I  do  not  know  its  equal  for 
breadth  of  view,  sobriety  of  speculation,  and  accuracy  of  detail. 

I  should  say  that  Dr.  Carpenter  most  conspicuously  in- 
fluenced the  course  of  education  in  medicine  and  the  progress 
of  biological  science  by  these  two  works,  which  have  been  read 
by  thousands  who  knew  nothing  of  his  many  valuable  direct 
contributions  to  histology  and  zoology.  In  addition,  his  excel- 
lent and  very  popular  work  on  "  The  Microscope,"  opened 
wide  the  gates  of  science  to  many  people  who  might  otherwise 
never  have  been  tempted  to  enter  therein. 

*  The  editions  to  which  Mr.    Huxley's  remarks  especially  refer  are  the 
third,  published  in  185 1,  and  the  fourth,  1S54. 

4 


68  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

My  copy  of  the  "Comparative  Physiology"  (writes  Mr. 
Thiselton-Dyer,  F.R.S.)  bears  the  date  1854.  A  good  deal  has 
been  added  to  biological  knowledge  since  then  ;  but  in  my 
opinion  there  is  no  modern  book  which,  taken  as  a  whole,  sur- 
passes it  in  firm  grasp  of  general  principles  and  in  clear  and 
ordered  exposition  of  details  to  anything  like  the  degree  that  it 
itself  did  the  literature  contemporary  with  it.  I  suppose  few 
of  the  younger  men  read  it  now.  Yet  I  am  convinced  it  would 
well  repay  them  for  the  trouble.  Only  recently,  in  a  paper  sub- 
mitted for  my  opinion,  I  found  the  principle  of  the  antithesis 
between  vegetative  and  reproductive  activity  in  the  organism 
set  forth  by  the  writer  as  something  novel,  in  utter  unconscious- 
ness apparently  of  the  fact  that  it  is  stated  and  enforced  with 
extreme  precision  by  Dr.  Carpenter. 

The  book  itself  may  not  be  read,  but,  as  is  always  the  case 
with  good  work,  its  influence,  far  from  being  spent,  was  never 
more  a  living  force  amongst  English  teachers  of  science  than  at 
the  present  moment.  The  doctrine  so  emphatically  taught  by 
Professor  Huxley  that  Botany  and  Zoology  are  but  branches 
of  a  common  discipline — Biology,  was  Dr.  Carpenter's  cardinal 
idea.  In  so  far,  then,  as  English  biological  science  has  to-day  a 
broad  and  far-seeing  scope,  and,  above  all,  looks  for  ideas  of  the 
widest  generality  in  the  accumulation  of  facts  and  observations, 
to  Dr.  Carpenter's  influence  must  in  my  judgment  be  undoubt- 
edly attributed  no  small  share  in  the  success  it  has  achieved. 

One  feature  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  writings  astonishes  me  now, 
perhaps,  even  more  than  it  did  thirty  years  ago.  One  is  ac- 
customed nowadays  to  huge  books  which  are  vast  receptacles 
of  knowledge,  and  tell  the  student  more  than  he  wants  to  know 
about  everything.  The  aggregation  of  such  pieces  of  literature 
is,  after  all,  little  more  than  mechanical.  The  actual  facts  cited 
often  seem  in  collision,  and  left  to  fight  it  out  among  them- 
selves ;  they  are  rarely  examined  critically  ;  still  more  rarely  are 
they  summed  up  from  a  single  point  of  view.  This  was  not  Dr. 
Carpenter's  method :  in  marshalling  the  contents  of  an  infinite 
number  of  detached  memoirs,  he  seems  to  me  unsurpassed ;  he 
had  the  double  gift  of  both  selecting  what  was  significant  and  of 
emphasizing  its  significance  in  connection  with  general  prin- 
ciples.    Whatever   he  took   into   his  mind  was   digested   and 


INFLUENCE   AS  A    PHYSIOLOGIST.  69 

assimilated  there  into  perfect  clearness ;  and  I  suppose  few 
scientific  writers  have  ever  so  distinctly  known  what  they  meant, 
or  expounded  it  with  such  precision,  or  with  such  a  wealth  of 
apt  illustration. 

One  other  book  may  be  named  in  this  connection,  the 
treatise  on  "The  Microscope,"  first  produced  in  1856.  By 
this,  said  Professor  E.  Ray  Lankester,*  "the  army  of 
"  amateur  observers,  who  delight  in  the  revelations  of  the 
"  microscope,  were  trained  to  accurate  work,  and  led  on  to 
"become  useful  auxiliaries  of  the  professional  explorers  of 
"  the  organic  world."  This  treatise  Dr.  Carpenter  retained 
in  his  own  hands,  issuing  the  sixth  edition,  immensely  in- 
creased in  size,  in  1881.  Both  in  England  and  in  the 
United  States  it  has  filled  a  most  important  place. 

No  one  who  has  had  any  experience  of  the  innumerable 
amateur  scientific  societies  scattered  throughout  the  country 
(observed  a  writer  in  the  Medical  Press  and  Circular)\  can 
have  any  difficulty  in  determining  to  what  extent  this  single 
book  has  influenced  the  love  for  practical  microscopy  among 
the  masses.  Formerly  this  was  much  more  evident  than  now, 
when  the  pioneer  of  popular  guides  is  only  one  out  of  many 
similar  volumes,  and  when  we  are  liable  to  forget  the  indebted- 
ness of  the  present  to  the  labourers  in  the  past. 


VI. 

The  principal  physiological  labours  of  Dr.  Carpenter 
were  now  complete.  He  was  not  disposed  to  overrate 
their  absolute  value.  A  quick  sense  of  justice  sometimes 
made  him  seem  tenacious  of  recognition  of  his  share  in 
the  development  of  English  biological  science,  as  it  also 
prompted  him  to  accord  hearty  welcome  to  the  discoveries 
of  others.     But  when  he  compared  his  own  work  with  what 

•  Academy,  November  21,  1885.  t  November  18,  1S85. 


70  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

might  appear  much  humbler  toil  and  less  conspicuous 
achievement  in  other  fields,  he  did  not  exaggerate  its 
importance. 

For  myself  (he  wrote  to  his  mother  in  September,  1855), 
I  feel  that  Providence  points  out  to  each  of  us  what  we  are  fit 
for,  and  that  it  is  our  duty  to  follow  its  pointings.  I  try  to  do  my 
work  in  the  world  in  the  way  and  directions  in  which  I  feel 
best  fitted  to  promote  human  progress.  I  often  feel  how  very 
little  mere  intellectual  enlightenment  does,  and  wish  that  I  had 
more  opportunity  of  labouring  for  the  moral  improvement  of 
individuals.  So  far  from  looking  doivn  upon  such  work  as 
Philip  is  carrying  on,  I  look  ///  to  it*  He  that  saves  a  sinner 
from  the  error  of  his  ways,  does  a  far  higher  work  than  he  who 
writes  any  amount  of  scientific  books,  or  makes  any  amount  of 
scientiiic  discoveries. 

The  energy  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  nature,  however,  was  not 
without  its  own  missionary  outlets.  With  his  earnest  view 
of  life,  even  his  social  pleasures  must  be  touched  with 
something  of  his  favourite  science.  He  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Lord  Ashburton,  and  both  the  opening 
and  the  close  of  1855  were  spent  under  his  roof  at  The 
Grange.  The  guests  on  the  second  occasion  included  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Brookfield,  with  whom  he  afterwards  became 
intimate  (Mr.  Brookfield,  of  all  his  friends,  being  most 
able  to  rouse  what  humour  he  possessed),  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Carlyle.  Among  these  he  pursued  a  sort  of  apos- 
tolate  of  the  microscope  ;  with  what  success,  the  following 
passage  from  a  letter  to  his  v/ife  will  show : — 

To-day  I  came  upon  hun  (Mr.  Carlyle)  alone  in  a  walk,  and 
had  the  boldness  to  tackle  him,  and  really  got  on  very  well, 
by  setting  him  to  talk  about  Coleridge,  Lamb,  etc.  He  fired 
out     tremendously    against    Coleridge's    self-degradation,    but 

*  Philip  p.  Carpenter  was  then  minister  of  the  Cairo  Street  Chapel,  War- 
rington. His  philanthropic  labours,  as  well  as  his  services  to  conchological 
science,  are  described  in  "  Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Work  of  Philip  Pearsall 
Carpenter,  B.A.,  Ph.D.,  ediied  by  Russell  Lant  Carpenter,  B.A." 


GENERAL   INTERESTS.  71 

thought  Lamb's  talk  a  sort  of  dikited  insanity.  ...  I  have 
opened  their  eyes  a  good  deal,  and  interested  them  much,  by 
the  microscope,  and  I  am  very  glad  that  I  offered  to  bring  it. 
I  shall  put  it  away  now  that  the  literary  lions  are  coming  down,* 
and  shall  keep  myself  in  the  background  as  an  observer.  I 
should  have  told  you  that  Carlyle  was  very  anxious  to  see  one 
of  his  own  hairs  ;  and  as  it  happened  to  be  a  very  strong  and 
rough  one,  we  had  some  amusing  jokes  as  to  the  typical  cha- 
racter which  it  represented.  Mrs.  Carlyle  then  wanted  one  of 
hers  to  be  exhibited,  which  was  rather  slenderer,  but  still  con- 
siderably knobby. 

These  brief  days  of  rest  were  hardly  sufficient,  however, 
for  an  overtasked  frame,  and  an  illness  in  the  winter  of 
1856  drove  him  to  St.  Leonard's  for  restoration.  There 
he  seized  the  opportunity  for  reading  various  works  for 
which  the  home-toils  provided  no  leisure.  The  latest 
published  volumes  of  Macaulay's  History  gratified  his  taste 
for  political  narrative,  and  he  wrote  to  his  mother  with 
enthusiasm  of  the  interest  with  which  he  traced  through  his 
pages  the  evolution  "  under  the  wise,  firm,  and  imperturbable 
"guidance  of  the  king,  of  those  principles  of  constitutional 
"government  on  which  our  national  prosperity  has  so 
"securely  rested."  Theology,  as  usual,  claimed  some  of  his 
attention ; — 

I  have  not  head  enough  for  sermon  reading,  but  have 
devoted  myself  on  Sundays  to  "  Port  Royal,"  f  which  I  find  far 
more  interesting  than  I  expected,  and  which  comes  much  more 
home  to  my  feelings  than  abstract  disquisitions  on  religious 
subjects.  It  is  remarkable,  and  I  know  not  how  to  account  for 
it,  that  with  so  much  tendency  to  abstraction  and  generalization 
in  my  own  mind,  I  cannot  take  in  the  abstractions  and  general- 
izations of  others  without  thinking  them  out  for  myself 

The  same  holiday  enabled  him  to  study  with  eagerness 

*  Mr.  Tennyson,  Mr.  Tom  Taylor,  and  others,  were  expectetl. 

t  An  abridgment  of  Mrs.  Sclunimelpenninck's  History,  by  P.  P.  Carpenter. 


72  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

Professor  Jowett's  recent  treatise  on  the  Epistles  of  Paul, 
and  the  results  of  his  reading  soon  appeared  in  the  Greek 
Testament  class  which  he  used  to  conduct  on  Sunday 
mornings  in  University  Hall. 

To  the  student-life  around  him  there  he  devoted  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  thought.  During  the  morning  hours 
before  his  lectures  began,  he  was  always  at  hand  for  those 
who  sought  his  guidance  and  advice.  At  dinner,  and  in 
his  drawing-room  in  the  evenings,  he  took  a  friendly  lead 
in  conversation,  and  won  the  confidence  of  young  men  by 
his  sympathy  with  them  in  their  interests  and  difficulties. 
Partly  to  provide  them  with  larger  social  opportunities,  he 
organized,  with  his  wife's  help,  in  the  spacious  Council 
Room  and  Library,  a  series  of  soirees,  which  became  quite  a 
feature  of  his  tenure  of  office,  for  there  the  newest  scientific 
illustrations  were  often  to  be  seen,  and  men  and  women  of 
distinction  mingled  in  the  throng.  The  grave  and  earnest 
habits  of  his  own  life  often  produced  on  others  deep  and 
abiding  impressions.  As  in  every  other  relation  in  which 
he  was  placed,  faithfulness  to  duty  was  its  most  striking 
characteristic,  so  that  if  anything  went  seriously  wrong 
among  those  under  his  care,  he  suffered  the  keenest  dis- 
tress. Engagements,  in  the  same  way,  must  be  fulfilled 
at  whatever  personal  cost.  The  wants  of  his  pupils  were 
his  first  consideration  as  teacher ;  and  it  was  observed,  as 
in  complete  accordance  with  the  whole  tone  of  his  mind, 
that  he  lectured  to  one  of  his  University  College  classes 
within  an  hour  of  hearing  of  his  mother's  death  (after  a 
long  illness  in  1856)  with  even  more  than  his  usual  clear 
ness  and  accuracy. 

In  May,  1856,  Dr.  Carpenter  was  elected  to  the  Regis- 
trarship  of  the  University  of  London.  This  appointment 
enabled  him  to  cease  lecturing  and  examining  in  Physiology, 
though  he  continued  to  serve  as  Professor  in  University 


THE    UNIVERSITY   OF  LONDON.  73 

College,  and  to  reside  as  Principal  in  University  Hall. 
Two  years  later,  however,  the  new  Charter  of  1858  intro- 
duced changes  in  the  constitution  of  the  University  which 
involved  a  considerable  increase  in  the  duties  of  the 
Registrar,  and  he  then  relinquished  his  other  functions,  and 
devoted  himself  with  undivided  zeal  to  his  administrative 
labours.  His  tenure  of  office  for  three  and  twenty  years 
coincided  with  a  vast  expansion  of  the  operations  and 
influence  of  the  University,  in  the  direction  of  which  he 
took  a  leading  share.  His  large  knowledge  of  the  needs 
and  conditions  of  higher  education,  especially  medical  and 
scientific,  bore  rapid  fruit.  The  arrangements  for  degrees 
in  science  owed  their  first  forms  chiefly  to  him,  and  in 
working  them  out  practically  his  organizing  skill  and  his 
mastery  of  detail  were  repeatedly  tested  and  not  found 
wanting.  His  business  qualities  enabled  him  to  perform 
mere  routine  work  with  great  despatch,  while  the  history 
of  each  step  of  departmental  development  seemed  to  fix 
itself  without  effort  in  his  accurate  and  retentive  memory. 
Thus  as  years  went  on,  he  became  a  sort  of  storehouse  of 
precedents  which  he  could  recall  and  apply  with  unusual 
facility  ;  and  it  often  happened  that  when  administrative 
changes  were  proposed  by  younger  men  he  could  retrace 
the  occasion  of  similar  suggestions  long  before,  and  the 
reasons  which  had  been  urged  against  them,  and  had  pre- 
vailed. The  whole  aim  of  his  work  was  to  bring  the 
University  as  closely  as  possible  into  contact  with  the 
higher  educational  life  of  the  country.  His  extensive 
experience  and  his  willingness  to  impart  information  or 
advice  made  him  in  time  a  centre  to  which  the  promoters 
of  all  kinds  of  educational  enterprises  might  resort  ;  and  in 
the  rise  of  many  of  the  local  colleges  in  the  great  provincial 
towns,  he  took  the  keenest  interest.  His  position,  more- 
over, placed  him  in  connection  with  many  distinguished 


74  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

men  associated  in  the  work  of  the  University,  among 
whom  his  own  scientific  distinction  gave  him  a  just  influ- 
ence. The  Chancellor,  the  successive  Vice-Chancellors, 
were  his  steadfast  friends  ;  and  to  the  last  day  of  his  life  he 
cherished,  as  one  of  its  most  precious  privileges,  the  re- 
membrance of  the  intimate  relations  into  which  he  was 
admitted  with  the  stately  and  reserved  historian,  Mr.  Grote. 
On  his  retirement  from  University  Hall,  in  1859,  Dr. 
Carpenter  settled  in  a  house  at  the  foot  of  Primrose  Hill, 
which  became  the  family  home  for  more  than  a  quarter  of 
a  century.  In  the  possession  of  a  settled  income,  and  free 
from  the  care  and  strain  which  had  beset  his  earlier  years, 
he  was  able  to  give  fuller  play  to  his  tastes,  and  pursue  with 
less  difficulty  his  favourite  scientific  inquiries.  In  his  new 
study  was  built  an  organ,  which  he  designed  himself,  with 
some  unusual  features,  to  secure  as  much  variety  and  rich- 
ness as  possible  without  overwhelming  power.  Here  he 
found  at  last  a  place  of  ease  though  not  of  indolence,  of 
satisfied  desire,  such  as  he  had  never  before  enjoyed. 

The  organ  looks  extremely  handsome  (he  wrote  one 
winter's  day  to  his  brother  Russell),  and  is  as  charming 
in  its  voice  as  in  its  exterior.  I  can  sometimes  scarcely 
realize  how  completely  all  the  hopes  of  my  life  have  now 
been  accomplished.  A  few  days  ago  I  was  very  poorly 
with  a  bad  cold,  and  I  remained  in  bed  part  of  the  morning, 
reading  Dickens's  "  Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  which  had  so  fully 
taken  up  my  attention  that  I  thought  of  nothing  else  even 
while  I  was  dressing.  When  I  went  into  my  study,  feeling 
rather  miserable  in  myself,  and  found  a  bright  fire,  bright 
sunlight,  and  everything  looking  so  much  the  opposite  of  what 
I  had  been  reading,  and  of  my  own  physical  condition,  I  was, 
as  people  say,  "  struck  all  of  a  heap." 

To  this  home  Dr.  Carpenter  delighted  to  welcome  his 
friends,  and  year  by  year,  as  the  circle  widened,  his  facilities 
also   increased.     What  impression  he  produced  upon  the 


HOME   LIFE.  75 

guests  who  came  to  him  acquainted  only  with  his  writings, 
may  be  gathered  from  the  following  letter  of  the  late  Mr. 
George  Ripley,  for  so  many  years  the  well-known  literary 
critic  of  the  New  York  Tribune. 

I  trust  I  do  not  abuse  his  kind  hospitalities  by  saying  that 
my  visits  at  his  house  are  among  the  brightest  recollections  of 
my  London  experience.  With  his  eminent  position  in  the 
scientific  world,  he  has  the  modest  simplicity  of  a  child.  His 
love  of  truth  and  reality,  which  impresses  one  as  the  staple  of 
his  character,  is  not  incompatible  with  an  affectionate  gentle- 
ness of  manner  which  lends  a  peculiar  charm  to  his  instructive 
conversation.  Dr.  Carpenter  is  chiefly  known  as  a  physiologist, 
though  eminently  distinguished  in  other  branches  of  natural 
science.  But  I  found  him  equally  interested  in  the  great 
problems  of  philosophic  speculation,  "  fate,  foreknowledge,  and 
free  will,"  which  have  been  the  delight  and  torment  of  high 
thinkers  in  every  age.  He  has  none  of  the  flippant  scorn  of 
certain  modern  pretenders  to  science  who  ignore  everything 
beyond  this  "  visible  diurnal  sphere,"  and  who  would  limit  the 
study  of  the  human  soul  to  the  manipulations  of  the  dissecting- 
knife  and  microscope.  Among  other  topics  which  he  elucidated 
in  his  familiar  talk  was  the  unconscious  activity  of  the  brain  in 
connection  with  the  phenomena  of  the  will.  Starting  with  the 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  matter  is  merely  the  vehicle  of  force, 
he  sets  aside  the  old  dispute  between  the  spiritualists  and 
materialists  as  barren  of  fruit,  and  seeks  to  establish  a  sound 
and  comprehensive  psychology  on  the  basis  of  the  whole 
constitution  of  man,  and  his  relations  to  the  external  world. 
From  this  point  of  view  he  regards  the  great  centres  of  nervous 
force  as  the  source  of  two  classes  of  automatic  actions,  primary 
and  secondary,  of  which  the  latter,  though  originally  prompted 
by  the  will,  and  still  remaining  under  its  control,  are  habitually 
performed  without  any  volitional  agency.  The  power  of 
invention,  whether  in  the  sphere  of  poetry,  art,  or  mechanical 
combination,  may  be  referred  to  this  source.  The  same 
principle  explains  the  higher  operations  of  the  mind,  the 
creations  of  genius,  and  the  intuitions  of  the  moral  sense.  It 
is  the  ever-flowing  current  of  mental  activity  which  may  be 


76  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

0 

regarded  as  the  spontaneous  unconscious  action  of  the  brain, 
that  produces  the  miracles  of  intellect  which  we  regard  as 
natural  inspiration.  Although  this  power  is  a  gift,  the  possession 
of  which  is  not  at  our  command,  partaking  of  the  nature  of  an 
instinct,  which  no  culture  can  produce  any  more  than  it  can 
raise  a  crop  of  corn  where  the  seed  has  not  been  sown,  it  may 
be  developed  and  strengthened  by  appropriate  discipline.  In 
proportion  to  our  love  of  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the 
good,  it  gains  in  efiicient  and  harmonious  activity.  The  more 
intimately  we  commune  with  the  highest  ideals  of  artistic  and 
moral  excellence,  the  more  thorough  will  be  our  appreciation  of 
whatever  is  noble  and  elevating.  The  more  faithfully  we  devote 
ourselves  to  the  pursuit  of  truth,  free  from  all  selfish  aims  and 
conscious  prejudices,  the  more  consummate  will  be  our  mental 
force,  and  the  richer  in  fruitful  results.  A  foundation  is  thus 
laid  in  the  original  constitution  of  man  for  the  advancement 
not  only  of  the  individual  but  of  the  race,  until,  in  a  higher 
phase  of  existence,  the  laborious  and  uncertain  deductions  of 
the  intellect  may  be  superseded  by  the  clear  vision  of  intuitive 
insight. 

London,  however,  was  not  the  only  place  where  Dr. 
Carpenter  was  able  to  receive  congenial  visitors.  In  1855, 
he  had  spent  a  brief  September  holiday  in  the  Isle  of 
Arran,  in  the  Clyde,  with  results  that  had  a  determining 
influence  upon  his  scientific  inquiries.  While  dredging  in 
Lamlash  Bay,  he  came  across  numerous  specimens  of  the 
beautiful  rosy  Feather-Star  {Comatula  rosacea),  and  its 
larval  stages,  which  resemble  the  stalked  form  of  Penta- 
crinus.  When  the  British  Association  met  that  year  in 
Glasgow,  this  "  rediscovery  "  (as  he  called  it)  of  the  Penta- 
crinoid  larva  excited  great  interest  among  his  Natural 
History  friends.  "Professor  Kolliker,"  *  he  wrote,  "is 
"  quite  delighted,  and  seems  much  inclined  to  accompany 
"  me  to  Lamlash  for  the  purpose  of  working  out  the 
"matter  fully."     The  result  was  that  Dr.  Carpenter  took 

*  The  distinguished  anatomist  of  Wiirzburg. 


HOME   LIFE.  77 

a  house  on  Holy  Island,  off  the  shores  of  which  the 
Comatula  had  its  home.  Lying  across  Lamlash  Bay,  it 
formed  a  splendid  natural  breakwater,  and  gave  security 
to  the  hundreds  of  vessels  which  sometimes  sought  shelter 
in  the  bay  from  the  storms  outside.  The  island  itself 
was  a  great  rocky  mass,  rising  a  thousand  feet  out  of  the 
sea.  The  solitary  house  stood  at  the  northern  end,  two 
miles  from  the  village  of  Lamlash,  across  the  bay.  Dr. 
Carpenter  was  a  fearless  boatman  ;  he  was  fond  of  an  oar, 
and  had  a  passion  for  sailing,  which  he  had  first  practised 
in  the  West  Indies  ;  and  his  boat  was  often  seen  scudding 
across  for  letters  and  provisions  while  the  visitors  on  the 
other  side  were  glad  to  be  on  shore.  He  was  commonly 
known  in  the  village  as  "  the  eccentric  Englishman  ; "  and 
an  old  woman  in  the  valley  behind,  who  had  never  been 
beyond  the  confines  of  the  bay  in  all  her  life,  could  not 
repress  her  amazement  that  any  one  should  "  come  down 
"  fra'  London  and  live  on  an  island,  wi'  the  water  a' 
"  round  it." 

To  this  summer  home  came  many  friends,  drawn   by 
interest    in    common    pursuits    and    the    opportunities    of 
dredging,   which  were   by  no  means  so   frequent  then  as 
now.    Dr.  Balfour,  Professor  of  Botany  in  the  University  of 
Edinburgh,  who  often  resided  at  Lamlash,  was  a  frequent 
visitor  ;  so,  too,  was  Professor  (now  Sir  William)  Thomson, 
from  his  Brodick  home.     The  guests,  to  be  sure,  ran  risks 
of  possible  detention,  if  a  gale  cut  off  the  communications ; 
and  it  was  with  mingled  amusement  and  despair  that  the 
mistress  of  the  establishment,  in  the  early  hours  of  the  third 
day  of  a  violent  storm  which  had  actually  sunk  the  boat  at 
her  moorings,  received  a  plaintive  request  from  Professor 
Helmholtz  for  a  bread  poultice,  when  there  was  but  half 
a  loaf  left,  and  the  household  would  have  to  breakfast  on 
porridge,  tinned  meat,  oatcake,  and  potatoes.     Such  inci- 


78  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

dents  as  these,  however,  only  heightened  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  island-freedom  and  the  conventions  of  town  life. 
Through  the  quaint  English  of  the  following  words  of  the 
late  Professor  Edouard  Claparede,  of  Geneva,  who  left  be- 
hind him  (in  1859)  '^^^  impression  of  a  singularly  gentle  and 
lovable  nature,  breathes  a  truthful  utterance  of  gratitude: — 

I  wish  to  tell  you  and  your  wife  my  thanks  for  the  kind  re- 
ception I  enjoyed  in  Holy  Island.  This  fortnight  on  the  banks 
of  Lamlash  Bay  is  one  of  the  happiest  I  ever  delighted  upon. 
I  often  heard  of  the  friendly  hospitality  of  Englishmen,  which 
comes  not  only  from  the  lips  as  the  French,  but  from  the  heart, 
and  shows  itself  by  facts  more  than  by  words.  I  am  glad  that 
your  kindness  gave  me  occasion  of  experiencing  myself  the 
truth  of  this  reputation. 

From  this  vacation  Dr.  Carpenter  went  home  to  study 
the  book  which  was  to  give  so  profound  an  impulse  to 
scientific  thought  in  all  directions,  "The  Origin  of  Species," 
by  Mr.  Darwin.  He  was  well  fitted  to  appreciate  its 
general  argument,  for  the  subject  of  modification  by  de- 
scent, and  the  wide  limits  of  species  had  been  long  in  his 
mind.  He  had,  indeed,  rejected  the  theory  of  the  author 
of  the  "Vestiges,"  but  it  had  been  on  the  grounds  of  de- 
ficient evidence  and  physiological  error,  not  from  theo- 
logical prepossession.  In  an  article  on  Dr.  Prichard's  two 
treatises,  "  The  Physical  History  of  Mankind,"  and  "The 
Natural  History  of  Man,"  published  in  1847,  he  had 
reiterated  the  general  doctrine — 

That  amongst  the  different  species  of  plants  and  animals 
there  is  a  very  wide  diversity  in  regard  to  their  respective 
capacities  for  variatioti.  In  the  species  which  have  least  capacity 
for  variation  we  find  (as  a  necessary  consequence)  the  least 
adaptiveness  to  external  conditions  ;  ...  on  the  other  hand,  in 
those  which  have  most  capacity  for  variation,  that  capacity 
manifests  itself  in  the  peculiar  adaptation  which  their  physical 
constitution  undergoes  to  circumstances  as  they  change ;  and 


"  THE    ORIGIN   OF  SPECIESP  79 

also  in  the  spontaneous  origination  of  peculiarities  that  cannot 
be  traced  to  the  influence  of  those  circumstances. 

He  had  discussed  numerous  cases  of  variation  among 
domesticated  animals,  and  advocated  especially  the  descent 
of  the  dog  from  the  wolf ;  replying  to  the  objection  that 
the  wolf  does  not  exhibit  a  disposition  to  attach  itself  to 
man,  in  these  terms  : — 

It  has  been  proved  that  the  wolf  is  much  more  capable  of 
domestication  than  is  commonly  supposed  ;  if  taken  young  from 
its  wild  state,  and  brought  under  the  influence  of  man;  and  that 
it  then  displays  as  much  attaclnnent  to  its  master,  and  remem- 
brance of  kindness  shown  it,  as  any  dog  could  do.  So  that 
there  is  no  difficulty  in  understanding  how,  by  a  continuance  of 
this  influence  through  successive  generations,  the  character  of 
the  race  may  become  so  permanently  changed  that  the  traces 
of  former  domestication  may  not  be  altogether  lost,  even  in 
breeds  which  have  returned  to  their  wild  state  for  centuries. 
There  is  no  reason  why  \\\t  psychical  character  of  a  peculiar 
aptitude  for  domestication  should  not  manifest  itself  as  the 
special  feature  of  a  variety,  like  any  physical  character,  such  as 
the  remarkable  conformation  of  the  otter  breed  of  sheep ;  or 
why,  to  put  the  matter  in  a  still  more  definite  form,  the  first 
manifestation  of  the  variability  of  the  species  of  wolf  should  not 
be  the  production  of  a  race  disposed  to  attach  itself  to  man, 
from  which  race,  under  the  continued  influence  of  domestica- 
tion, an  almost  infinite  variety  of  new  breeds  has  arisen,  differing 
in  the  number  of  the  vertebrae  in  their  tails,  in  that  of  their 
toes,  and  even  in  that  of  their  molar  teeth.  These  last  de- 
partures from  the  ordinary  type  exist,  not  merely  in  particular 
races  most  remote  from  it,  but  also  within  the  limits  of  single 
varieties  or  breeds,  just  like  the  occasional  appearance  of  six- 
fingered  races  among  various  nations  of  men.  They  cannot, 
therefore,  be  admitted  as  specific  difterences  ;  and  they  serve  to 
show  how  very  wide  are  the  limits  of  variation  in  tbis  species. 

The  researches    into   the  Foraminifcra,    in    which    Dr. 
Carpenter  had  been  subsequently  engaged,  had  led  him 


8o  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

still  further  in  the  direction  here  indicated  ;  he  had  had 
occasion  again  and  again  to  point  out  how  arbitrary  were 
the  bounds  set  by  previous  investigators,  and  how  un- 
satisfactory was  the  old  doctrine  of  the  immutability  of 
fixed  types.* 

He  was  ready,  therefore,  to  give  sympathetic  and  in- 
telligent consideration  to  Mr.  Darwin's  main  thesis,  and  in 
the  correspondence  which  ensued,  Mr.  Darwin  warmly  ex- 
pressed his  pleasure  at  the  support  which  was  likely  to  be 
afforded  to  it. 

I  must  thank  you  (he  wrote  on  November  i8,  1859)  for 
your  letter  on  my  own  account,  and,  if  I  know  myself,  still 
more  warmly  for  the  subject's  sake.  As  you  seem  to  have 
understood  my  last  chapter  without  reading  the  previous  chapters, 
you  must  have  maturely  and  most  profoundly  self  thought  out 
the  subject,  for  I  have  found  the  most  extraordinary  difficulty 
in  making  even  able  men  understand  at  what  I  was  driving. 

The  next  day  came  a  second  note — 

I  beg  pardon  for  troubling  you  again.  If,  after  reading  my 
book,  you  are  able  to  come  to  a  conclusion  in  any  degree 
definite,  will  you  think  me  very  unreasonable  in  asking  you  to 
let  me  hear  from  you  ?  I  do  not  ask  for  a  long  discussion,  but 
merely  for  a  brief  idea  of  your  general  impression.  From  your 
widely-extended  knowledge,  habit  of  investigating  truth,  and 
abilities,  I  should  value  your  opinion  in  the  very  highest  rank. 

After  another  fortnight,  Mr.  Darwin  replied  to  the  com- 
munication which  he  had  thus  invited  :  "  I  am  perfectly 
"delighted  at  your  letter.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  have  got  a 
"great  physiologist  on  our  side."  Two  articles,  one  in  the 
National  Review  for  January,  i860,  and  the  other  in  the 
British  and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical  Review  for  April, 
enabled  Dr.  Carpenter  to  give  an  outline  of  Mr.  Darwin's 

*  At  the  meeting  of  the  British  Association  in  Glasgow,  in  1855,  Dr.  Car- 
penter dehvered  one  of  the  evening  lectures,  and  took  as  his  subject  the 
"  Range  of  Variation  of  Species." 


"  THE    ORIGIN   OF  SPECIES."  8i 

views,  and  illustrate  them  with  a  variety  of  independently 
selected  facts.  Of  this  second,  Mr.  Darwin  wrote  as 
follows  : — 

You  must  let  me  express  my  admiration  at  this  most  able 
essay,  and  I  hope  to  God  it  will  be  largely  read,  for  it  must 
produce  a  great  effect.  ...  I  have  not  a  criticism  to  make, 
for  I  object  to  not  a  word ;  and  I  admire  all,  so  that  I  cannot 
pick  out  one  part  as  better  than  the  rest.  It  is  all  so  well 
balanced.  But  it  is  impossible  not  to  be  struck  with  your 
extent  of  knowledge  in  Geology,  Botany,  and  Zoology. 

Other  thoughts  were  at  the  same  time  occupying  his 
mind.  He  had  lectured  that  winter  at  the  Royal  Institu- 
tion, on  "  The  Relation  of  the  Vital  to  the  Physical  Forces," 
with  especial  reference  to  the  life  of  plants,  and  had  con- 
tested the  doctrine  of  germ-force,  maintaining  that 

What  the  germ  really  supplies  is  not  the  force,  but  the  direc- 
tive agency,  thus  rather  resembling  the  control  exercised  by  the 
superintendent  builder,  who  is  charged  with  working  out  the 
design  of  the  architect,  than  the  bodily  force  of  the  workmen, 
who  labour  under  his  guidance  in  the  construction  of  the  fabric. 
The  agency  of  the  germ  may  be  regarded  like  Magnetism,  as  a 
static  force;  and  just  as  Magnetism  requires  to  be  combined 
with  motion,  to  enable  it  to  develop  Electricity,  so  does  the 
directive  agency  of  the  germ  need  the  co-operation  of  a  dyniainic 
force  for  the  manifestation  of  its  organizing  power.  That 
dynamic  force,  as  we  learn  from  an  extensive  survey  of  the 
phenomena  of  life,  is  Heat. 

The  report  of  this  lecture  drew  from  the  veteran 
Mrs.  Sonierville  the  following  letter  : — 


'fc> 


Florence,  June  12,  i860. 

The  proof  of  the   sequence  of  forces  by  which  you  have 

connected  mind  with  mind,  and  transmitted  your  ideas  to  the 

minds  of  your  audience,  has  required  a  higher  power  of  intellect 

than  that  of  making  electricity  the  bearer  of  thought  from  con- 


83  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

tinent  to  continent,  sublime  as  it  is,  inasmuch  as  many  intellects 
were  combined  to  effect  the  latter,  while  the  general  tendency 
of  science  seems  to  have  been  your  sole  guide  in  demonstrating 
that  matter  is  merely  the  medium  through  which  mind-force, 
like  all  other  force,  acts,  and  that  thus  mind  may,  and  in  fact 
does,  exist  independently  of  matter.  The  series  which  you 
have  completed  is  very  beautiful.  First,  Mr.  Grove's  masterly 
demonstration  of  the  correlation  of  the  physical  forces,  then 
your  proof  of  their  correlation  with  the  vital  force  so  happily 
illustrated  by  the  zoospores,  and,  lastly,  the  remarkable  correla- 
tion between  the  vital  and  mental  forces.  No  doubt  this  series 
will  mark  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  as  a  great 
scientific  epoch,  the  discoveries  arising  from  which  who  can 
predict,  when  the  motion  of  a  microscopic  atom  affords  irre- 
sistible proof  of  an  important  fact  ?  The  paper  you  have  kindly 
sent  is  so  full  of  interesting  matter,  and  contains  so  much  new 
to  me,  that  it  is  in  vain  to  write  all  I  should  have  wished  to 
talk  to  you  about.     I  can  only  heartily  thank  you  for  it. 

The  researches  on  the  Foraminifera,  on  which  Dr. 
Carpenter  had  been  long  engaged,  were  now  drawing  to  a 
close.  Four  successive  memoirs  upon  them  had  been  pre- 
sented to  the  Royal  Society,  and  published  in  the  "  Philo- 
sophical Transactions,"  and  on  these,  together  with  his 
investigations  into  the  microscopic  structure  of  shells,  his 
observations  on  the  embryonic  development  of  Piirpiira, 
and  his  various  other  writings  in  Physiology  and  Com- 
parative Anatomy,  was  based  the  award  of  one  of  the 
Royal  medals,  which  he  received  from  the  President  and 
Council  of  the  Royal  Society  in  i86i.  He  was  still  hard 
at  work  completing  the  long-delayed  treatise  on  the  entire 
group,  designed  for  the  Ray  Society,  in  which  he  was 
assisted  by  Mr.  W.  K.  Parker  and  Mr.  T.  Rupert  Jones. 
With  how  much  eagerness  he  toiled,  even  through  the  hot 
summer  days  in  which  he  was  detained  by  University 
examinations,  may  be  inferred  from  the  following  letter 
to  his  wife  at  Holy  Island : — 


RESEARCHES   ON  FORAMINIFERA.  83 

London,  August  20,  1861. 
When  working  on  Friday  evening,  after  my  return  home,  upon 
Dactylopora7  I  got  an  entirely  new  hght,  which  revolutionized 
my  ideas  of  it  so  completely  (as  regards  its  more  complex  forms, 
at  least)  that  I  could  not  rest  until  I  had  gone  over  it  with  Mr. 
Parker.  I  worked  at  it  all  Saturday  morning,  and,  finding 
everything  confirmatory  of  my  new  ideas,  I  went  over  to  him 
in  the  evening,  and  fortunately  found  him  at  home  and  dis- 
engaged. It  was  quite  charming  to  see  his  delight  at  the  new 
and  more  satisfactory  information  I  was  able  to  give  him,  and 
he  seemed  just  as  glad  to  be  shown  that  he  was  in  error  as  if 
he  had  made  it  all  out  originally  himself.  He  gave  me  per- 
mission to  do  anything  I  wished  in  dismounting,  breaking,  and 
laying  open  his  specimens,  and  I  have  found  it  desirable  to 
take  almost  every  one  (several  score  in  all)  off  its  slide,  and 
to  examine  it  separately,  making  sections  and  fractures,  but 
especially  finding  that  removing  portions  by  acid  supplied  under 
the  microscope  with  a  camel's-hair  brush  did  most  what  I 
wanted.  In  this  way  I  have  thoroughly  succeeded,  have 
cleared  up  every  difficulty,  and  have  got  the  whole  truth  before 
me  in  a  way  quite  demonstrative.  I  never  followed  up  a 
scientific  examination  with  such  zest  before,  or  had  the  same 
opening  out  of  such  novelty  in  so  short  a  time. 

The  incident  made  a  strong  impression  upon  his  mind. 
He  recurred  to  it  a  month  later  in  writing  from  Holy 
Island  to  his  brother  Russell. 

I  never  saw  a  more  beautiful  instance  of  thorough  candour. 
As  step  by  step  I  led  him  from  the  simpler  to  the  more  complex 
arrangements,  and  showed  him  how  the  latter  evolved  them- 
selves out  of  the  former,  he  seemed  just  as  much  pleased  in 
coming  to  the  knowledge  of  a  new  and  beautiful  set  of  facts  as 
if  he  had  been  himself  the  one  to  find  them  out ;  and  was  just 
as  ready  to  accept  them  as  if  he  had  not  previously,  not  only 
formed,  but  published  a  description  altogether  at  variance  with 
what  he  now  saw  to  be  the  truth. 

In  the  following  year,  these  labours  were  completed  by 
the  publication,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Ray  Society,  of 


84  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

the  large  and  important  work  entitled,  "  An  Introduction 
to  the  Study  of  the  Foraminifera." 

Among  Dr.  Carpenter's  favourite  recreations  was  an 
occasional  visit  to  Paris.  He  had  many  friends  and  cor- 
respondents among  the  savans  of  the  French  capital.  With 
Professor  Milne  Edwards  he  was  united  by  many  ties  of 
common  work ;  and  he  was  always  sure  of  finding  there  a 
fresh  sympathy  in  his  researches  and  speculations.  There, 
during  the  Easter  vacation  of  1863,  he  heard  of  the  dis- 
covery of  the  flint  implements  and  the  human  jaw  at 
Abbeville.  A  day's  inquiry  on  the  spot  on  his  way  home 
greatly  excited  his  interest,  and  led  him  to  return  in  the 
following  month,  with  Mr.  George  Busk,  Dr.  Falconer,  and 
Mr.  Prestwich,  to  take  part  in  the  investigation  which 
ensued.  The  question  to  be  decided  was  the  antiquity  of 
the  bone.  Professor  Milne  Edwards  presided  over  the 
inquiry.  ''  He  has  the  great  advantage,"  reported  Dr. 
Carpenter,  "of  being  able  to  interpret  each  side  to  the 
"other  when  there  is  any  difficulty.  The  discussion  has 
"  been  most  friendly,  and  I  think  that  each  side  has  found 
"  that  the  other  had  more  to  say  than  was  expected." 

So  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  life  ran  on  ;  and  when  the 
family  greetings  poured  in  upon  him  on  his  birthday,  he 
uttered  his  feelings  with  unusual  copiousness  and  freedom 
in  a  sort  of  general  epistle. 

London,  October  30,  1863. 
There  is  great  beauty  in  the  expression  Avhich  almost  all  of 
you  have  quoled  about  "  the  sunny  side  of  fifty."  I  had  quite 
forgotten  it,  if  I  ever  heard  it;  but  I  can  fancy  good  Dr. 
Tuckeiman's  genial  utterance  of  it,  and  can  heartily  respond 
to  it. 

After  dwelling  on  his  home-happiness,  he  continued — 

My  social  position,  too,  is  such  as  when  I  entered  upon  life, 
sacrificing  whatever  prospects  I  might  have  had  for  the  more 


FIFTY   YEARS.  85 

congenial  pursuits  which  promised  no  more  substantial  return 
than  a  bare  maintenance,  was  altogether  beyond  ray  hopes.  It 
is  now  thoroughly  equal  to  my  ambition.  Anything  higher 
would  only  bring  with  it  increased  cares,  and  involve  greater 
temptations  to  worldly  distraction.  ...  I  honestly  believe  that 
I  am  succeeding  in  carrying  the  University  through  a  very 
important  phase  of  its  development  as  few  other  people  could 
do,  the  range  of  knowledge  required  to  make  the  various  exami- 
nations go  smoothly,  to  say  nothing  of  habits  of  business,  being 
very  considerable.  So  that  although  I  am  not  badly  paid  for  it, 
I  consider  that,  in  giving  up  myself  heartily  to  University  work,  1 
am  really  labouring  efficiently  for  the  public  weal. 

I  have  now  thoroughly  determined  to  devote  what  remains 
to  me  of  working  power  to  original  scientific  research.  My  two 
large  Physiologies  have  been  for  some  time  out  of  print,  and 
Churchill  has  been  at  me  for  new  editions.  For  some  time  I 
rather  clung  to  the  idea  of  reproducing  them  with  assistance ; 
but  I  have  now  quite  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  must  give 
them  entirely  up,  and  a  new  edition  of  my  "  Human  Physi- 
ology "  is  now  being  prepared  by  a  gentleman  whom  I  have 
recommended  to  Churchill.  It  is,  of  course,  a  considerable 
regret  to  me  to  give  up  what  I  have  worked  so  hard  upon,  and 
to  feel  that  I  have  no  right  hencetbrth  to  call  myself  a  phy- 
siologist. But,  as  I  had  to  choose  between  imperfectly  keeping 
up  with  this  subject  and  entirely  giving  up  original  research, 
I  could  not  hesitate  in  preferring  the  latter.  .  ,  . 

Of  my  more  particularly  personal  state  I  shall  say  less,  for  I 
have  less  to  say.  I  feel  deeply  thankful  for  the  many  mercies 
I  have  experienced,  not  less  for  the  discipline  I  have  undergone. 
As  I  heard  old  Mr.  Robberds  say,  on  an  anniversary  of  his 
commencement  at  Cross  Street,  "  God  and  man  have  been  very 
kind  to  me."  And  I  trust  that  others  can  perceive  that  the 
discipline  of  life  has  not  been  without  its  salutary  effect.  I  am 
sometimes  disquieted  by  intellectual  doubts  and  difficulties,  and 
I  often  mourn  that  I  cannot /rt'/ what  others  seem  to  experience 
of  their  personal  relation  to  the  Deity.  But  I  believe  that  these 
difficulties  are  a  necessary  result  of  the  habits  of  thought  which 
have  been  growing  up  with  me ;  and  as  they  never  obscure  my 
view  of  duty,  I  find  it  better  not  to  trouble  myself  too  much 


86  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

about  them,  but  to  apply  myself  to  the  business  of  the  time,  and 
find  their  practical  solution  in  the  doing  it.  Still,  it  is  when 
prevented  by  bodily  indisposition  from  so  escaping  them  that 
these  sources  of  uneasiness  make  themselves  felt ;  and,  as  it 
would  be  too  much  to  expect  all  sunshine,  I  must  regard  these 
as  the  clouds.  I  am  now  and  then  comforted  by  the  know- 
ledge of  the  large  toleration  which  men  of  great  religious 
experience  have  for  difficulties  like  mine.  Both  Mr.  Martineau 
and  Dr.  Sadler  (to  whom  I  have  most  freely  opened  myself) 
have  assured  me  that  I  ought  not  to  make  myself  unhappy 
about  them,  and  that  they  would  rather  be  in  my  position  than 
in  that  of  many  who  believe  themselves  much  safer. 

Through  the  difficulties  here  indicated,  Dr.  Carpenter, 
after  no  long  interval,  worked  his  way.  The  strong  religious 
needs  of  his  nature  found  their  satisfaction  in  the  view  of 
the  world  depicted  in  the  later  essays  in  this  volume.  His 
intellectual  fidelity  was  far  too  steadfast  for  him  to  be  con- 
tented with  anything  short  of  real  intelligible  conviction. 
And  partly  under  the  stimulus  of  the  preaching  and  the 
writings  of  his  friend,  the  Rev.  James  Martineau,  and  partly 
through  the  natural  development  of  his  own  philosophical 
principles,  he  laid  firmly  in  his  thought  the  bases  of  the 
Theistic  interpretation  of  the  world.  Moreover,  he  was 
peculiarly  susceptible  to  sympathy,  though  the  subjects  on 
which  he  was  exercised  did  not  admit  of  frequent  speech  ; 
and  the  presence  by  his  side  of  a  most  tender  and  discern- 
ing companion  who  (as  one  who  knew  her  well,  said)  "  leaned 
"  on  him,  but  in  whose  very  leaning  there  was  persuasion," 
brought  to  him  a  helpful  influence  more  easily  understood 
than  described.  He  did  not  dwell  on  special  theological 
points  ;  but  his  doubts  and  difficulties  were  of  the  kind  to 
be  met  by  evidence  of  the  reality  of  religion  in  man's  nature 
and  experience.  Had  he  been  shut  up  to  the  alternative 
of  the  Calvinistic  scheme  of  redemption  or  agnosticism, 
he  would  doubtless  have  joined  the  ranks  of  those  who 


SCIENCE   AND  RELIGION.  87 

declared  a  theology  impossible.  But  he  returned  to  the 
manifestation  of  religion  which  he  saw  in  the  character 
and  teachings  of  Jesus,  from  whose  figure  he  now  began' 
to  detach  the  supernatural  vestments  in  which  it  had 
been  robed.  There  he  found  nothing  inconsistent  with  the 
strictest  demands  of  his  science,  while  a  moral  image  of 
supreme  beauty  was  presented  to  his  affections  ;  and  he 
accepted  Christianity  in  the  sense  in  which  he  believed  it 
to  have  existed  in  "  the  mind  of  Christ."  This  attitude  of 
thought  is  portrayed  in  the  conclusion  of  one  of  the  first 
Sunday  lectures  for  the  people  on  scientific  subjects  which 
were  ever  delivered  in  London,  in  the  winter  of  1866.*  The 
topic  of  the  evening  had  been  the  "Antiquity  of  Man." 
After  stating  some  of  the  scientific  and  moral  difficulties 
besetting  the  ordinary  Evangelical  view  of  the  Bible,  Dr- 
Carpenter  (who  had  warmly  befriended  Dr.  Colenso  three 
years  before)  continued  in  these  terms  : — 

But  to  the  honest  inquirer,  who  brings  to  the  religious  his- 
tory of  the  world  the  same  modes  of  investigation  that  he  applies 
to  the  secular — who  takes  nothing  for  granted,  but  endeavours 
fairly  to  estimate  every  fact  at  its  true  value — who  appreciates 
at  their  full  worth  those  noblest  instincts  of  man  with  which  all 
true  progress  has  been  in  relation,  by  action  and  reaction,  both  as 
cause  and  as  effect — and  who  looks  to  the  religion  of  the  future 
as  destined  to  exalt  and  refine  these,  and  to  bring  them  to  bear 
with  augmented  strength  on  the  great  problems  of  human  wel- 
fare, what  but  good  can  come  from  the  freest  search  into 
scientific  truth?  What  part  does  science  play  that  is  not  in 
fullest  harmony  with  the  highest  truths  of  religion  ?  Do  the 
Divine  words  of  our  dying  Master,  "  Father  forgive  them  for 
"they  know  not  what  they  do,"  appeal  less  strongly  to  our  deepest 
sympathies,   because  asuonomy  teaches  that  the   earth  moves 

•  These  lectures  at  St.  Martin's  Ilall  were  under  the  auspices  of  the 
National  Sunday  League.  Dr.  Carpenter  took  great  interest  in  these  and 
similar  efTor'.s  to  extend  the  range  of  Sunday  teaching.  lie  was  President  of 
the  Sunday  Lecture  Society  from  its  first  formation,  in  1S69,  until  his  death. 


88  MEMORIAL    SKETCH. 

round  the  sun  ?  Or  does  his  prayer  for  his  disciples,  "  that  they 
"  may  be  one  even  as  we  are  one,"  less  earnestly  move  us  to  seek 
to  realize  that  unity  which  he  came  to  promote,  because  geology 
shows  that  the  present  surface  of  the  globe  is  the  resultant  of  a 
vast  series  of  changes,  of  which  we  have  no  trace  in  the  Biblical 
record,  but  which  are  yet  more  surely  revealed  to  the  eye  of 
science  than  they  could  have  been  by  the  most  veracious  contem- 
porary narrator  ?  So  far  from  being  in  opposition,  I  affirm  that 
science  is  in  the  fullest  harmony  with  all  that  is  essential  and 
true  in  Christianity ;  for  whilst  it  is  every  day  contributing  to 
the  material  welfare  of  man,  it  is  even  more  certainly  benefiting 
him  by  the  enlargement  of  his  intellect,  the  elevation  of  his 
morale,  and  the  strengthening  of  his  power  of  spiritual  discern- 
ment— all  which  contribute  their  respective  shares  to  the  de- 
velopment of  his  religious  nature ;  and,  last,  but  by  no  means 
least,  it  is  undermining,  one  by  one,  those  props  on  which  have 
rested  those  unsightly  and  repulsive  additions  built  up  by  the 
perverted  ingenuity  of  theologians  around  the  original  edifice  : 
so  that,  when  the  time  is  at  last  come,  the  blast  of  common 
sense,  the  flood  of  public  opinion,  shall  overthrow  all  that  has 
its  foundation  in  the  sand,  and  leave  in  its  majestic  simplicity 
and  beauty  that  temple,  founded  upon  a  rock,  in  which  all 
mankind  shall  one  day  gather  themselves  for  the  worship  of 
their  common  Father  and  the  recognition  of  their  mutual 
brotherhood  as  His  children. 


VII. 

In  the  vacation  of  1863,  Dr.  Carpenter  visited  his  friend, 
Professor  (afterwards  Sir  Wyville)  Thomson,  at  Belfast. 
He,  too,  was  engaged  in  the  study  of  the  Crinoid  group, 
and  in  the  waters  of  the  Belfast  Lough  he  had  successfully 
employed  the  dredge.  The  visit  was  repeated  in  the  follow- 
ing year,  but  it  was  interrupted  by  the  beginning  of  a  very 
serious  illness,  through  which  Dr.  Carpenter  was  nursed 
with  the  greatest  care  by  his  kind  host  and  Mrs.  Thomson. 
But  when  he  was  at  length  able  to  return  to  London,  he 


"  EOZO'ON."  89 

was  quite  unfit  to  resume  his  University  duties.  The  long 
strain  which  he  had  put  upon  his  energies  seemed  to  have 
exhausted  his  natural  powers  of  recovery.  The  eminent 
medical  men  who  met  in  consultation  at  his  house,  and 
detected  the  presence  of  permanent  disease,  said  to  them- 
selves beneath  their  breath  outside  the  door  of  the  patient's 
room,  "  He  has  one  foot  in  the  grave  already."  Music 
ceased  to  charm  ;  his  scientific  investigations  were  laid 
aside  ;  his  Foraminifera  and  his  ComatuLne  remained  undis- 
turbed. It  seemed  as  though  he  had  become  prematurely 
old  ;  torpor  crept  over  him  and  numbed  his  activities  ;  the 
weeks  passed  by  listlessly  and  mounted  into  months,  and 
he  gained  no  strength.  The  fears  of  his  friends  appeared 
on  their  way  to  verification,  when  one  day  Sir  William 
Logan,  the  head  of  the  Geological  Survey  of  Canada,  called 
upon  him,  bringing  with  him  some  specimens  from  the  great 
beds  of  the  Canadian  limestones,  on  which  he  asked  his 
opinion.  Dr.  Carpenter's  quick  eye  at  once  detected  in 
them  a  remarkable  affinity  to  the  foraminiferal  structure 
with  which  he  was  so  familiar.  His  interest  was  again 
powerfully  awakened  ;  the  "will  to  live"  revived  ;  he  began 
to  make  microscopic  preparations,  and  entered  with  much 
of  his  former  zest  on  a  new  path  of  inquiry,  with  the  result 
that  he  regained  some  of  his  old  vigour,  and  became  the 
ardent  champion  of  the  truly  organic  character  of  the  rock 
in  question.  Here,  as  he  believed,  was  the  earliest  known 
form  of  animal  existence ;  it  was  the  Eozo'dn,  "  the  dawn 
of  life." 

The  spring  of  1865  found  Dr.  Carpenter  again  at  his 
post.  But  his  strength  was  not  yet  adequate  to  the  full 
labours  which  the  summer  series  of  examinations  entailed. 
Threatened  with  another  collapse,  he  was  suddenly  ordered 
off  to  the  Engadine,  He  passed  slowly  up  the  Rhine  with 
his  wife,  being  directed  to  proceed  as  little  as  possible  by 


90  MEMORIAL    SKETCH. 

rail,  and  the  travellers  rested  for  a  while  at  Heidelberg. 
There  his  scientific  imagination  was  kindled  by  the  wonders 
of  the  spectroscope  in  the  laboratory  of  Professors  Kirchhofif 
and  Bunsen  ;  and  a  supper-party  in  the  Castle  grounds, 
given  by  them  in  his  honour,  stamped  itself  in  his  memory 
as  one  of  the  happiest  evenings  of  his  life.  At  St.  Moritz  he 
found  the  stimulus  which  his  constitution  so  much  needed. 
His  vitality  reasserted  itself;  the  specific  malady  was  sub- 
dued and  kept  at  bay,  though  it  tended  occasionally  to 
break  out  again  in  after-years  ;  and  when,  to  avoid  the  ad- 
vancing cold  of  the  latter  part  of  August,  he  moved  down 
to  Bellaggio,  he  drank  in  deep  draughts  of  beauty  from  the 
mountains  and  the  lake  which  completed  the  refreshment 
of  mind  and  heart. 

In  June  of  this  year  Dr.  Carpenter  had  presented  to 
the  Royal  Society  the  first  portion  of  a  memoir  on  the 
Rosy  Feather-star,  which  embodied  the  results  of  his 
vacation  studies  at  Arran  for  many  years  previously. 
These  had  been  carried  on  in  conjunction  with  Professor 
Wyville  Thomson,  who  had  already  published  an  account 
of  his  observations  on  the  earliest  larval  stages  of  the 
Feather-star.  Dr.  Carpenter's  memoir  took  up  the  subject 
at  the  point  to  which  it  had  been  carried  by  Professor 
Thomson,  and  made  known  two  important  discoveries,  one 
of  which  found  immediate  acceptance.  But  the  other,  re- 
specting the  nervous  system  of  the  Crinoid  type,  remained 
without  notice  for  many  years  ;  and  when,  in  1875,  he 
stated  his  views  more  fully,  they  were  strongly  opposed 
by  the  principal  continental  students  of  Crinoidea.  They 
gradually  found  acceptance,  however,  and  were  publicly 
adopted  by  his  chief  opponent,  but  a  few  weeks  after  his 
death,  in  1885. 

But  the  joint  work  of  the  two  friends  on  the  Rosy 
Feather-star  was    destined    to    bear   yet    more    important 


DEEP-SEA    RESEARCHES.  91 

fruit.  For  it  led  them  to  take  a  very  special  interest  in 
the  discovery,  by  Professor  Sars,  the  Superintendent  of  the 
Fisheries  to  the  Swedish  Government,  of  a  stalked  Crinoid 
living  at  a  depth  of  three  hundred  fathoms,  near  the 
Lofoden  Islands.  This  little  form,  which  had  received 
the  name  Rhizocrimis,  was  recognized  as  the  living  repre- 
sentative of  a  family  of  stalked  Crinoids,  which  was  abun- 
dantly represented  in  the  Oolitic  rocks,  and  less  so  in  the 
chalk,  but  had  apparently  become  extinct  in  later  geological 
times.  The  discovery  of  a  member  of  this  group,  living  in 
European  seas,  was  therefore  of  the  highest  significance 
to  the  two  English  students  of  the  Crinoidea  ;  and  it  sug- 
gested to  Professor  Thomson,  in  1868,  the  idea  that  the 
British  Government  might  be  induced  to  promote  the 
scientific  exploration  of  the  deep  sea  between  the  Shetlands 
and  the  Faroe  Islands.  This  proposition  was  promptly  laid 
by  Dr.  Carpenter  before  the  Council  of  the  Royal  Society, 
who  in  their  turn  made  application  to  the  Government. 
The  season  was  already  advanced,  but  a  vessel  was  allotted 
for  the  purpose ;  Dr.  Carpenter  was  entrusted  by  the 
Admiralty  with  the  scientific  direction  of  the  expedition, 
and  he  was  accompanied  by  Professor  Thomson  and  one  of 
his  own  sons. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  the  series  of  deep-sea  re- 
searches, in  which  for  four  years  Dr.  Carpenter  bore  so 
conspicuous  a  part,  until  they  culminated  in  the  despatch 
of  the  Challenger  on  its  voyage  round  the  world.  These 
expeditions  involved  no  small  amount  of  work.  Special 
apparatus  was  necessary  for  dredging  and  for  temperature- 
soundings,  which  was  only  perfected  after  various  prelimi- 
nary trials.  The  plan  of  operations  had  to  be  carefully 
designed  in  consultation  with  the  authorities  of  the  Ad- 
miralty ;  and  their  results  in  due  course  begot  reports, 
which  grew  both  in  bulk  and  in  importance  with  succes- 
5 


92  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

sive  years.  Nor  were  the  cruises  themselves  an  unalloyed 
pleasure,  though  they  brought  with  them  hours  of  rapturous 
scientific  bliss.  Again  and  again,  when  Dr.  Carpenter 
joined  his  vessel,  he  was  worn  and  jaded  with  protracted 
work  through  the  hottest  days  of  the  year,  when,  unfortu- 
nately, the  severest  pressure  of  University  duty  coincided 
with  his  least  physical  capacity  to  bear  it.  He  knew  that 
he  would  pass  days  together,  perhaps  a  week,  in  his  berth 
at  the  outset,  and  again  with  every  gale  ;  and  that  the 
liability  to  sickness  and  discomfort  would  haunt  him 
through  the  entire  voyage.  But  for  the  brilliant  success 
of  the  first  expedition,  he  would  hardly,  perhaps,  have  had 
courage  to  attempt  another. 

The  ship  first  assigned  to  the  investigators  was  the 
Lightning ;  it  had  passed  the  days  of  its  youth,  for  it  had 
been  built  in  1824;  nor  was  it  constructed  in  accordance 
with  modern  ideas  of  speed,  as  it  was  the  earliest  steam- 
vessel  in  her  Majesty's  service.  "  Our  old  tub,"  wrote  Dr. 
Carpenter,  somewhat  disconsolately,  "  cannot,  at  the  best, 
"  make  mere  than  seven  miles  an  hour  !  "  The  weather  was 
abominable  ;  even  the  officers  and  men  were  sick  ;  and  it 
was  often  too  rough  to  attempt  to  dredge.  The  kindness 
of  the  Danish  Governor  and  his  lady,  while  the  ship  was  at 
Thorshavn,  the  chief  harbour  of  the  Faroe  Islands,  and 
agreeable  intercourse  with  the  Dean  of  the  Islands,  and 
the  Rector  of  the  High  School,  relieved  the  tedium  of 
confinement  to  the  little  cabin.  Once  more  at  sea,  they 
encountered  fresh  resistance  from  wind  and  wave,  as  though 
the  waters  resented  their  inquisitorial  activity,  and  were 
determined  to  baffle  all  efforts  to  probe  the  secrets  of  their 
depths.     But  at  length  the  day  of  compensation  dawned. 


DEEP-SEA    RESEARCHES.  93 


To  Mrs.  Carpenter. 

On  board  the  Lightning,  September  6,  1S68. 
This  morning,  after  two  days'  interdiction,  we  had  our  most 
interesting  result.  At  530  fathoms  the  temperature  was  47° 
(probably  on  account  of  the  Gulf  Stream),  and  we  have  brought 
up  in  a  muddy  ooze  a  most  remarkable  set  of  new  and  large 
forms  of  siliceous  sponges,  with  which  Thomson  is  especially 
delighted,  together  with  others  previously  discovered  and  re- 
cently described  by  Loven,  as  well  as  small  specimens  of  the 
Hyalonema  (Japanese  flint-rope)  and  its  encrusting  Polype ;  the 
whole  giving  materials  for  completely  settling  the  questions  lately 
discussed  between  Gray  and  Bowerbank,  in  which  Thomson  has 
intervened,  and  (as  at  present  appears)  entirely  in  favour  of 
Thomson's  views.  He  is,  of  course,  greatly  delighted,  and  now 
says  that  it  was  quite  worth  a  week's  misery  to  get  these. 

September  7. 
After  I  wrote  yesterday  afternoon,  we  had  the  intense  satis- 
faction of  meeting  with  two  specimens  of  jRhizocriims,  not  very 
good  ones,  but  serving  to  prove  the  existence  of  this  type  in  the 
open  ocean,  and  therefore  (presumably)  in  considerable  quanti- 
ties, if  we  can  only  hit  upon  the  spots  where  it  abounds,  as  we 
have  fortimately  done  with  the  sponges.  This  completes  the 
success  of  our  expedition  in  everything  that  we  hoped  to  do, 
except  that  the  zoology  of  the  Faroe  fjords  proved  much  less 
interesting  than  we  had  anticipated.  We  have  proved  that  dredg- 
ing at  500  or  550  fathoms  involves  no  more  difficulty,  where 
there  is  adequate  power,  than  dredging  at  100  fathoms.  We 
have  found  out  the  best  form  of  dredge  and  the  best  material 
for  the  bag.  We  have  got  all  the  Norwegian  forms  to  which  we 
alluded  in  our  letters  as  carrying  us  back  to  older  types.  We 
have  added  a  great  deal  to  our  knowledge  of  geographical  dis- 
tribution, and  have  shown  how  much  more  it  depends  on  the 
temperature  than  on  the  pressure  of  the  deep  sea  ;  and  we 
have  a  set  of  observations  on  this  subject  which  are  of  first- 
rale  importance.  As  complete  novelties  from  500  fathoms  and 
more,  we  have  not  only  the  series  of  siliceous  sponges,  but  also 


94  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

some  very  curious  Rhizopods,  with  sandy  envelopes.  And  what 
was  of  special  interest  as  marking  the  tropical  source  of  the 
warm  band,  was  the  presence  of  two  large  forms  of  shelly  Fo- 
raminifera,  of  types  precisely  corresponding  to  those  of  warm 
waters,  and  living.  If  they  had  been  dead,  they  might  have 
been  regarded  as  mere  drifts. 

A  week  later  the  ship  found  shelter  again  in  Storno- 
vvay.  From  this  haven  of  rest,  in  the  light  of  their  recent 
successes,  the  memory  of  their  first  troubles  faded  away. 

Nothing  but  the  strong  motive  which  induced  me  to  make 
the  original  application  (wrote  Dr.  Carpenter)  would  have  kept 
me  up  through  its  early  miseries  and  discouragements.  If  we 
had  had  to  come  home  with  our  tails  between  our  legs,  instead 
of  with  the  flying  colours  with  which  our  ship  was  literally  decked 
when  we  came  into  port,  my  present  feelings  would  have  been 
very  different. 

The  results  of  these  investigations  were  summed  up  in 
two  important  generalizations.  In  the  first  place,  the  phe- 
nomena of  temperature  led  Dr.  Carpenter  to  conjecture 
that  besides  what  is  properly  called  the  Gulf  Stream,  i.e. 
"  the  current  of  heated  water  which  issues  from  the  Gulf 
"  of  Mexico,"  there  was  a  "  continual  interchange  between 
"  the  oceanic  waters  of  equatorial  and  polar  regions."  The 
water  cooled  in  the  polar  seas,  he  argued,  must  sink,  and 
displace  the  water  that  is  warmer  than  itself,  pushing  it 
away  towards  the  equator.  In  the  deepest  parts  of  the 
ocean,  therefore,  there  would  be  a  progressive  movement 
in  the  equatorial  direction  ;  whilst,  conversely,  the  warm 
water  of  the  tropical  seas,  being  the  lighter,  would  spread 
itself  north  and  south  over  the  surface  of  the  ocean,  and 
would  thus  move  towards  the  polar  regions,  losing  its  heat 
as  it  approached  them,  till,  under  the  influence  of  polar  cold, 
it  again  sank  to  the  bottom,  and  the  same  round  was  re- 
traced anew.     This  view  of  ocean-circulation  had  been,  in 


DEEP-SEA    RESEARCHES.  95 

fact,  already  offered  by  the  French  physicist,  Pouillet,  and 
also  by  the  Russian  physicist,  Lenz,  with  whose  expositions 
of  it  Dr.  Carpenter  afterwards  became  acquainted,  though 
they  had  not  given  any  precise  indication  of  the  forces 
which  would  keep  up  the  movement.  It  had  failed  to  win 
acceptance,  and  the  current  doctrine  on  the  subject  was 
that  of  Sir  John  Herschel. 

With  indefatigable  industry,  Dr.  Carpenter  set  himself 
to  establish  his  own  conception,  as  he  hoped,  beyond  refu- 
tation. In  papers  before  scientific  societies,  in  private 
discussions,  in  popular  lectures,  in  magazine  articles,  he 
reasoned  and  expounded  ;  he  urged  fresh  illustrations  ;  he 
met  and  overcame  unexpected  difficulties.  The  facts  ac- 
cumulated in  subsequent  expeditions,  and  the  masterly 
combinations  in  which  he  arranged  them,  at  length  began 
to  produce  the  desired  effect.  In  a  letter,  written  only  a 
month  before  his  death,  in  1871,  Sir  John  Herschel  ac- 
cepted the  new  teaching,  which  also  won  the  sanction  of 
such  distinguished  authorities  as  Sir  William  Thomson  and 
the  Astronomer  Royal, 

The  second  suggestion  was  due  to  Professor  Wyville 
Thomson.  The  animals  brought  up  alive  from  the  chalk- 
like deposit  then  in  progress  over  what  the  temperature- 
soundings  proved  to  be  a  relatively  warm  area,  distinguished 
from  a  cold  area  at  no  great  distance,  presented  many 
points  of  most  interesting  relationship  to  the  Fauna  of  the 
Cretaceous  period.  Was  it  not  possible,  then,  surmised 
Professor  Thomson,  that  the  deposit  of  Globigerina-mud 
had  been  going  on,  over  some  part  or  other  of  the  North- 
Atlantic  sea-bed,  from  the  Cretaceous  epoch  to  the  present 
time  }  Might  we  not,  indeed,  be  said  to  be,  in  one  sense, 
still  living  in  the  Cretaceous  epoch  ? 

To  the  solution  of  these  and  other  problems  generated 
by  the  first  cruise,  successive   expeditions  were  devoted. 


96  MEMORIAL    SKETCH. 

Her  Majesty's  surveying-vessel  Porcupine,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Captain  Calver,  was  assigned  for  the  service,  and 
proceeded,  in  1869,  to  work  over  the  ground  traversed  by 
the  Lightning,  as  well  as  to  investigate  new  fields  ;  while 
in  1870  it  was  sent  to  the  Mediterranean.  The  following 
passages  from  Dr.  Carpenter's  letters  home  will  show  his 
interest  in  the  scientific  work  and  in  the  new  scenes  to 
which  he  was  introduced. 

Thorshavn,  August  22,  1869. 
I  have  now  to  tell  you  of  a  most  remarkable  and  unexpected 
revelation.  Our  dredgings  last  year  brought  in  so  little  from 
the  bottom  of  the  cold  area  except  stones  and  sand,  that  we 
concluded  that  animal  life  is  very  scanty  under  that  low  tem- 
perature. Captain  Calver,  however,  having  bethought  him  of 
attaching  swabs  to  the  dredge,  so  as  to  sweep  the  bottom  as 
well  as  to  scrape  it,  these  swabs  have  come  up  teeming  with 
life,  when  there  was  next  to  nothing  in  the  dredge  but  sand  and 
stones.  And  though  a  great  deal  of  this  consists  of  common 
things,  yet  we  have  obtained  in  this  way  some  specimens  of  ex- 
traordinary interest.  Thus  in  one  place  we  brought  up  several 
specimens  of  the  large  Comafula  Eschrichtii,  a  well-known 
Greenland  and  Icelandic  type,  obtained  there  in  shallow  waters. 
But  our  great  catch  has  been  an  extraordinary  sponge,  with  a 
thick  and  dense  branching  axis  like  that  of  a  Gorgonia,  en- 
tirely disconnected  from  the  flesh  which  clothes  it,  and  of  a 
bright-green  colour.  This  came  up  in  abundance  on  Friday 
morning,  the  dredge  having  been  down  for  several  hours  of  the 
night,  and  pulled  in  at  four  in  the  morning.  W.  T.  and  I  were 
on  deck  by  five,  though  the  morning  was  decidedly  uncom- 
fortable, cold,  with  a  drizzling  rain  ;  and  we  forgot  all  about 
the  weather  in  our  interest  in  this  and  the  abundance  of  other 
things  brought  up  by  the  swabs.  They  were  perfectly  gay  with 
bright-coloured  Echinoderms,  purple,  red,  and  orange ;  and 
■when  I  detached  several  of  these  and  put  them  in  a  basin 
with  some  of  the  green  stems  of  the  sponges,  and  bright- 
yellow  Comatulae,  I  thought  I  had  never  seen  a  more  beautiful 
display  of  animal  colour.     Yet  this  came  from  a  bottom  of  sand 


DEEP-SEA    RESEARCHES.  97 

and  stones,  at  a  depth  of  about  600  fathoms,  presumably  in 
utter  darkness,  at  a  temperature  of  30°,  and  with  40  per  cent, 
of  carbonic  acid  in  the  atmosphere  of  dissolved  gases.  I  can 
scarcely  conceive  a  more  complete  boulevcrsement  of  our  ordinary 
biological  notions  than  is  given  by  this  remarkable  disclosure  of 
the  condition  of  this  bottom. 

Stornoway,  September  9,  1869. 
On  Tuesday  we  brought  up  a  great  prize,  an  Echinoderm, 
which  (Thomson  is  sure)  is  "  brand-new,  but  intensely  old,"  i.e. 
a  form  which  belongs  to  the  Chalk,  but  was  supposed  to  be  quite 
extinct.  It  is  something  like  an  Echinus  which  has  been  sat 
upon,  so  as  to  be  flattened  out  into  a  round  cake  ;  its  peculiarity 
being  that  whilst  it  has  the  same  general  plan  of  structure,  the 
plates  are  disconnected  from  each  other,  and  some  of  the 
meridional  bands  are  wanting,  so  that  there  is  a  general  loose- 
ness about  the  frame,  which  gives  it  a  most  curious  feel  when  laid 
living  on  the  hand.  The  discovery  of  this  living  type  at  once 
gives  the  clue  to  the  interpretation  of  the  fossil  Echinothiiria, 
which  had  previously  been  accounted  very  problematical,  and 
supplies  an  instance  equally  interesting  with  Hhizocrmus,  of  the 
persistence  of  Cretaceous  types,  thus  adding  strong  support  to 
Thomson's  hypothesis.  In  the  evening  the  dredge  was  put  over, 
and  allowed  to  trail  all  night  with  the  swabs  attached.  Hearing 
the  heaving-in  a  little  before  five  a.m.,  I  got  up  and  went  on 
deck,  where  Thomson  aheady  was,  and  there  we  saw  a  sight 
we  shall  not  easily  forget :  the  swabs  loaded  with  Holteiiias,  of 
which  there  were  at  least  two  buckets  full,  besides  multitudes  of 
other  things,  nearly  all  of  them  specially  interesting,  as  a  new 
species  of  Cidaris,  nearer  to  the  Chalk  forms  than  the  common 
one,  numerous  specimens  of  star-fish,  of  which  we  had  previously 
only  two  or  three,  and  of  which  there  are  probably  no  specimens 
in  any  other  than  Scandinavian  museums,  two  very  fine  specimens 
of  Hyalonema,  many  small  siliceous  sponges,  and  last  (but  by 
no  means  least)  a  second  specimen  of  the  EchiiwtJiuria.  This 
I  was  greatly  rejoiced  at  for  Thomson's  sake,  as  he  can  now 
work  out  the  anatomy  of  the  animal  without  mutilating  his  first 
and  best  specimen.  This  brought  our  work  to  a  most  trium- 
phant conclusion,  this  haul  being  as  much  beyond  any  previous 
one  in  interest  as  was  our  corresponding  haul  last  year. 


98  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

In  the  next  summer,  when  the  Poraipine  was  anchored 
off  Goletta,  the  little  harbour  of  Tunis,  science  gave  way  to 
sight-seeing.  The  Mediterranean  had,  in  fact,  yielded  less 
zoological  results  than  were  expected  ;  but  even  this  nega- 
tive issue  was  not  without  its  consolations.  "  After  all,"  re- 
flected Dr.  Carpenter,  "  it  was  something  to  have  found  out 
*'  that  there  was  nothing  to  find." 

Malta,  September  13,  1870. 

On  Monday  morning  we  got  up  very  early,  breakfasting  at 
five  o'clock,  to  go  up  to  Tunis,  for  which  the  little  steamer  that 
runs  up  and  down  the  lake  ordinarily  leaves  at  six.  But  when 
we  got  on  shore  we  learned  that  there  was  not  enough  water  in 
the  lake,  and  had  to  take  a  carriage  to  drive  round  it.  This 
was  tiresome,  as  the  drive  was  very  uninteresting,  the  country 
being  quite  level  for  miles  round,  and  very  arid,  the  only  green 
at  this  season  being  that  of  the  olive  tree.  The  only  feature  of 
interest  was  a  fine  group  of  mountains  at  some  distance,  about 
the  scale  of  Goatfell  and  Ben  Huish,*  and  not  unlike  them  in 
outline.  The  appearance  of  Tunis  itself  did  not  improve  as  we 
approached  it.  Excepting  a  few  villas,  which  are  chiefly  occupied 
as  consular  residences,  it  is  entirely  included  within  a  wall ;  and 
when  we  passed  the  gates  we  found  ourselves  in  very  narrow 
roads,  with  continuous  dead  walls  on  either  side,  ocoasionally 
pierced  by  doorways,  which  led  to  the  interior  of  the  houses. 

We  at  last  came  into  the  principal  open  space  of  the  town, 
where  what  were  formerly  the  palaces  of  the  Bey  and  his  principal 
ministers  are  now  the  consular  and  other  public  offices,  the 
palaces  being  outside  the  walls.  Having  learned  that  the  Bey 
sits  on  Monday  mornings  at  his  palace  to  hear  causes,  we  at 
once  went  on  to  it,  and  found  it  a  by  no  means  imposing-looking 
building,  with  numerous  courtyards,  at  some  distance  outside 
the  town.  We  were  shown  into  a  room,  from  which  we  had  a 
view  of  one  of  these  courtyards,  in  which  the  guard  was  relieved, 
with  the  usual  European  ceremonial  and  the  performance  of  the 
military  band.     There  was  something  in  the  whole  affair  which 

*  Mountains  in  Arran,  which  constantly  served  as  a  family  standard  for 
comparison. 


DEEP-SEA   RESEARCHES.  99 

impressed  all  of  us  with  the  feeling  of  its  being  very  like  a  scene 
in  a  theatre,  the  marching  and  costumes  of  the  men  being  very- 
like  that  of  the  supers  on  the  stage.  The  music  was  simply 
hideous,  the  different  instruments  playing  in  unison  or  octave 
without  the  slightest  idea  of  harmony,  and  leaving  off  on  the  most 
unexpected  notes.  Two  or  three  times  we  were  told  that  the  Bey 
was  coming ;  but,  after  waiting  an  hour,  we  found  that  he  had 
gone  over  to  another  place.  We  followed  thither,  and  learned 
to  our  mortification  that  he  had  just  finished  his  sitting.  We 
were  shown  the  hall  in  which  it  had  taken  place,  which  was 
more  like  a  long  corridor ;  and  we  were  told  that  the  suitor  has 
to  stand  at  one  end  of  this,  and  to  '  make  his  statement '  *  to 
an  officer  near  him,  who  repeats  it  to  another  a  litde  way  off, 
and  at  last  it  reaches  the  Bey,  with  such  modifications  and  vari- 
ations as  it  may  have  sustained  in  its  transit.  Of  course,  any 
questions  from  the  Bey's  end  have  to  go  through  the  reverse 
process  ;  while  the  replies  will  again  find  their  way  to  him  as  at 
first.  Fancy  the  proceedings  of  an  English  court  of  justice  being 
carried  on  on  such  a  system  ! 

The  new  palace  has,  built  into  it,  several  relics  from  the 
remains  of  Carthage  ;  entirely,  as  I  should  judge,  of  the  Chris- 
tian times,  when  Carthage  was  an  important  Roman  city  and  a 
bishop's  see  \  among  these  was  a  pair  of  columns,  ten  or  twelve 
feet  high,  of  brass. 

We  then  returned  to  town  and  went  to  the  bazaar,  which  is 
the  place  of  all  buying  and  selling,  except  what  is  carried  on  in 
some  little  shops  of  the  meanest  kind  elsewhere.  This  is  a  most 
curious  place.  It  is  a  series  of  narrow  and  tortuous  arcades, 
completely  arched  over,  except  in  one  central  spot,  where  they 
all  meet  Tliis,  at  the  frequented  time  (eleven  a.m.)  at  which 
we  chanced  to  be  there,  was  full  of  people,  some  buyers,  but 
many  sellers  :  people  who  have  got  no  shops,  but  carry  their 
goods  on  their  heads,  screaming  and  shouting  what  they  have 
to  announce.  In  these  arcades  the  only  light  is  from  a  hole 
left  here  and  there  in  the  arched  roof;  yet  this  is  sufficient  in 
the  middle  of  the  day  to  give  as  much  as  is  needful.     The  shops 

*  Another  home  phrase,  derived  from  the  habit  of  certain  members  of  the 
family,  whose  conversation  on  subjects  in  which  they  were  interested,  was  apt 
to  become  monologue. 


loo  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

are  the  queerest  little  dens  imaginable,  just  about  the  same  size 
and  arrangement  as  those  of  the  beasts  at  the  Zoo.  You  stand 
in  front  of  them,  and  the  dealer  sits  cross-legged  on  the  raised 
floor,  rising  to  get  any  of  the  goods  on  shelves  disposed  round  his 
den.  All  those  of  one  trade  congregate  in  the  same  arcade,  and 
the  stocks  of  the  several  dealers  are  very  small.  Of  the  larger 
articles,  it  often  happens  that  each  man  has  only  one  of  a  kind, 
and  if  you  do  not  like  it,  you  either  go  on  to  another  dealer,  or 
the  shop-keeper  will  collect  other  specimens  from  his  neighbours. 
There  does  not  seem  to  be  any  rivalry  among  them,  but  each 
deals  for  his  neighbours  as  well  as  for  himself.  In  many  of  these 
dens  the  manufacture  is  going  on.  This  is  especially  the  case 
with  the  red  Fez,  which  is  now  gradually  taking  the  place  of  the 
turbans,  etc.,  among  the  various  races  along  the  Mediterranean, 
and  of  which  all  the  best  that  are  sold  come  from  Tunis.  .  .  . 

The  next  morning  we  again  got  up  early  to  pay  a  visit  to  the 
Consul,  who  had  arrived  from  England  the  day  before,  and  to 
see  the  remains  of  Carthage,  which  lie  near  the  entrance  of  the 
bay  of  Tunis.  There  is  now  nothing  of  a  port,  and  it  is  difficult 
to  see  how  there  ever  can  have  been  a  harbour  of  any  importance ; 
but  there  is  a  massive  ruined  wall  extending  far  into  the  interior, 
notwithstanding  that  a  great  deal  of  the  stone  has  been  taken 
to  build  houses  in  the  neighbourhood.  But  that  which  was 
especially  worth  seeing  was  a  great  series  of  very  large  under- 
ground cisterns,  like  dry  docks,  lined  with  brick,  and  arched 
over,  for  the  storing  of  water  brought  by  an  aqueduct  from 
mountains  at  many  miles  distance.  There  were  two  rows  of 
these,  of  which  seventeen  have  been  uncovered  in  each,  and 
there  may  be  many  more  still  buried  and  filled  up.  I  never  saw 
so  gigantic  a  public  work. 

I  find  Malta  a  very  interesting  place,  and  the  harbour  and 
fortifications  are  wonderful.  We  went  a  long  drive  yesterday  to 
see  some  places  of  interest  in  the  interior  of  the  island,  and 
more  especially  St.  Paul's  Bay.  This  was  very  much  what  I 
expected  from  Mr.  James  Smith's  plan  of  it,*  and  I  seemed  able 

*  Mr.  James  Smith,  of  Jordan  Hill,  near  Glasgow,  an  old  fellow-student  of 
Dr.  Lant  Carpenter,  had  devoted  special  attention  to  the  record  of  St.  Paul's 
voyage,  which  he  had  investigated  in  his  own  yacht.  His  results  were  published 
in  a  book  entitled  "  The  Voyage  and  Shipwreck  of  St.  Paul." 


DEEP-SEA    RESEARCHES.  loi 

to  fix  almost  precisely  on  the  spot  where  the  ship  grounded  : 
the  point  on  which  he  is  said  to  have  landed  has  a  small  chapel 
to  commemorate  the  event.  The  interest  of  the  association  is 
somewhat  marred  by  the  erection  of  a  new  set  of  villas  near  the 
shore,  as  the  locality  is  thouglit  to  be  suitable  for  a  bathing- 
place  ! 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  aridity  of  the  country,  the  surface 
of  which  is,  at  this  season,  almost  entirely  bare  of  vegetation, 
except  the  cotton-plant,  which  is  extensively  cultivated,  and  is 
now  just  ripening.  The  land  is  everywhere  divided  up  by  stone 
walls  into  enclosures  of  varying  size,  but  scarcely  any  trees  are 
to  be  seen  anywhere.  These  will  all  be  sown  at  the  beginning 
of  the  rainy  season,  and  in  a  few  weeks  everything  will  be  ver- 
dant. The  population  of  the  island  is  enormous,  more  than 
120,000,  in  an  area  much  smaller  than  that  of  the  Isle  of  Wight. 
How  they  all  live  is  a  mystery  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  solve, 
as  all  the  food  grown  in  the  island  will  not  keep  them  three 
months  in  the  year,  and  I  cannot  learn  how  they  find  means  to 
purchase  the  deficit.  The  lower  class  are  chiefly  sailors,  and 
go  about  all  parts  of  the  Mediterranean.  The  patois  they  speak 
is  based  on  Arabic,  with  a  mixture  of  Italian  words,  and  they 
can  make  themselves  understood  all  along  the  African  coast, 
from  Egypt  to  Tangier,  though  the  people  of  Egypt,  Tripoli, 
Tunis,  Algiers,  and  Morocco,  speak  very  differently  among  them- 
selves. They  seldom,  however,  go  beyond  the  Mediterranean, 
and  come  back  to  Malta  as  their  home  whenever  anything  goes 
wrong  with  them  elsewhere. 

Gibraltar,  September  29,  1870. 

We  learn  here  of  the  fall  of  Strasburg,  the  surrender  of  Metz, 
and  the  investment  of  Paris.  I  have  had  a  long  talk  with  Sir 
F.  Williams  this  morning,  and  find  him  strongly  anti-Gallican. 
He  has  been  a  good  deal  in  France  during  the  last  two  years, 
and  has  seen  how  the  people  and  the  Emperor  have  been  egging 
each  other  on,  in  their  desire  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  Prussia,  with 
a  view  to  obtain  further  territorial  extension.  He  says,  very 
truly,  Europe  stood  by  without  interfering  when  France  acquired 
Savoy  and  Nice  ;  why  should  France  interfere  with  the  consoli- 
dation of  Germany  ?    Paris  complains  now  of  being  besieged  by 


102  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

Prussia,  when  at  the  beginning  of  the  war  the  universal  ciy  of  the 
French  army  was  "k  Bedin."  This  was  even  chalked  on  the 
baggage  and  ammunition  waggons.  .  .  .  It  is  Sir  F.  Williams's 
opinion  that  of  all  men  now  living,  Thiers  is  the  man  who  most 
contributed  to  the  present  state  of  things,  both  by  helping  to 
make  the  exaltation  of  France  the  one  idea  of  the  French 
.  people,  and  also  by  inducing  Louis  Philippe  to  fortify  Paris, 
which  now  makes  it  the  special  point  of  attack  by  the 
Prussians. 

The  attention  excited  by  the  deep-sea  researches,  and 
the  value  of  the  discoveries  already  made,  led  Dr.  Carpen- 
ter to  project  a  plan  for  investigations  on  a  still  wider 
scale.  Mr.  Lowe,  then  member  for  the  University  of 
London,  and  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  in  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's first  administration,  took  a  v/arm  interest  in  the 
work.  "  Though  time  is  a  scarce  commodity  just  now,"  he 
had  written  from  Downing  Street  in  March,  1870,  "I  have 
"  not  been  able  to  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  reading  your 
"  lecture.  It  fills  me  with  interest  and  admiration.  You  may 
"  rely  on  my  support  for  further  experiments  of  a  like 
"nature."  This  support  was  cordially  given  to  the  larger 
proposals  which  Dr.  Carpenter  now  ventured  to  lay  before 
Mr.  Goschen,  who  at  that  time  presided  over  the  Admiralty, 
for  the  scientific  circumnavigation  of  the  globe.  In  the 
summer  of  1871  these  proposals  received  the  practical 
sanction  of  the  Cabinet,  and  Dr.  Carpenter  felt  that  a 
heavy  responsibility  rested  upon  himself  to  do  all  in  his 
power  to  render  such  an  expedition  successful.  Many 
considerations  seemed  to  point  to  his  own  assumption  of 
its  scientific  direction.  He  possessed  an  unusual  range  of 
knowledge,  a  very  varied  experience  of  affairs,  an  eminent 
position,  and  he  had  given  special  proof  of  his  ability  to 
conduct  investigations  alike  in  the  physics,  the  zoology, 
and  the  geology  of  the  deep  sea.     There  were,  of  course, 


DEEP-SEA    RESEARCHES.  103 

considerations  of  another  kind  arising  out  of  the  peculiar 
risks  to  his  own  health,  his  home,  his  University  duties  ; 
but  he  felt  himself  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  for  his  love 
of  knovvledge  for  its  own  sake.  These  thoughts,  blended 
with  what  may  be  called  his  family-consciousness,  were  in 
the  background  of  his  mind  when  he  wrote  from  the  Shear- 
water* to  his  sister,  Mary  Carpenter,  who,  earlier  in  the 
year,  had  been  contemplating  a  fourth  visit  to  India. 

To  Mary  Carpenter. 

Gibraltar,  August  25,  187 1. 
Your  going  out  to  India  seems  now  little  more  than  my 
going  out  for  a  vacation  cruise  ;  and  it  seems  as  clearly  your 
mission  to  carry  on  the  work  of  female  education  in  India, 
as  it  is  mine  to  prosecute  the  science  of  the  deep  sea.     You 
have  found  your  work,  as  Carlyle  says,  and  I  have  found  mine. 
I  have  been  reading  again,  on  this  voyage,  Carlyle's  "  Life  of 
John  vSterling."     Poor  Sterling,  from  a  combination  of  circum- 
stances, never  found  his  work,  though  having  all  the  will  to  do 
it.     On  the  other  hand,  Coleridge  had  with  his  vast  powers 
and  influence  on  the  thought  of  the  time,  no  end  of  work  to 
do,  but  had  no  will  to  do  it.     When  Sterling  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  leave  the  Church,  Carlyle  says,  "  What  is  to  be  done  ? 
Something  must  be  done  and  soon,  under  penalties.     Whoever 
has   received,  on  him  there  is  an  inexorable  behest  to  give ! 
Fais  ton  fait.     Do  thy  little  stroke  of  work  !     This  is  Nature's 
voice,  and  the  sum  of  all  the  commandments  to  each  man." 
The  more  I  see  of  human  life  and  experience,  the  more  I  see 
how  true  this  is  ;  and  how  all  individual  considerations  should  be 
kept  in  subservience  to  great  ends,  when  we  have  a  right  to 
feel  assured  that    they   are    truly  great  and  good.     You,    my 
dear  sister,  have  the  happiness  of  feeling  that  your  ends  are 
in  the  most  eminent  degree  both  great  and  good,  as  bearing 

*  The  Shearwater,  under  command  of  Captain  (now  Sir  George)  Nares, 
was  on  its  way  to  the  Red  Sea  for  surveying  work.  It  had  been  arranged 
that  Dr.  Carpenter  should  carry  out  some  investigations  in  the  Mediterranean 
oil  the  way. 


104  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

immediately  on  the  moral  as  well  as  on  the  intellectual  ele- 
vation of  great  masses  of  our  fellow-men  and  women.  My 
work  (I  mean  my  scientific  work)  is  of  a  very  different  cha- 
racter, and  has  not,  apparently,  a  direct  moral  bearing,  how- 
ever high  its  intellectual  value.  But  I  feel  sure  that  the 
single-minded  pursuit  of  truth  for  its  own  sake,  without  a 
thought  of  selfish  aims,  has  its  effect  not  only  in  raising  the 
character  of  the  individual,  but  in  elevating  the  moral  standard 
of  the  educated  community ;  and  I  am  sure  that  I  can  trace 
this  in  the  greater  earnestness,  sincerity,  and  thoroughness  of 
the  leading  scientific  men  of  my  own  standing,  as  compared 
with  many  of  those  of  the  generation  now  passing  away.  I 
do  not  think  the  same  of  mere  intellectual  acquirement ;  though 
even  here  the  thoroughness  on  which  our  dear  father  used  to 
lay  so  much  stress,  is  a  valuable  moral  discipline.  So,  my 
dear  sister,  let  us,  the  eldest  daughter  and  the  eldest  son, 
bearing  the  name  which  we  so  much  venerate,  go  on  our 
several  ways  ;  carrying  out  each  in  her  and  his  own  way  the 
objects  in  which  our  dear  parents  would  have  felt  so  much 
interest. 

It  was  highly  characteristic  of  Dr.  Carpenter  at  this 
crisis  that  he  placed  the  decision  as  to  his  scientific  duty  in 
other  hands.  He  felt  that  the  fascination  of  the  prospect 
of  devoting  the  rest  of  his  life  to  original  investigations  for 
which  he  believed  himself  specially  qualified,  might  be- 
come one  of  those  "  dominant  ideas,"  the  presence  of  which 
he  could  so  often  detect  in  the  conduct  and  dispositions  of 
others.  He  consulted  those  in  whose  wise  judgment  he 
felt  the  fullest  confidence,  and  he  returned  from  the  Medi- 
terranean that  autumn  perfectly  content  to  tread  the 
accustomed  round.  He  never  looked  back.  In  all  the 
preparations  for  the  Challenger  Expedition  he  took  an 
active  share,  and  he  saw  it  depart  without  a  pang.  There 
were  still  fresh  interests  to  occupy  his  mind,  and  more 
work  for  him  to  do  at  home. 


DARWINISM  IN  ENGLAND.  105 


VIII. 

The  conclusion  of  this  chapter  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  active 
labour  may  fitly  be  followed  by  a  semi-autobiographical 
summary  of  his  views  on  "  Darwinism  in  England,"  drawn 
up  during  his  second  Mediterranean  cruise,  and  published 
in  a  little  Valetta  journal  named  //  Barth*  in  December, 
18S1. 

I  have  been  so  frequently  asked  by  Continental  savans 
what  English  naturalists  think  of  Mr.  Darwin's  views,  that  it 
may  not  be  an  unprofitable  use  of  a  short  interval  of  leisure 
which  my  detention  in  Malta  forces  upon  me,  if  I  attempt 
briefly  to  answer  the  question. 

To  do  this,  I  must  say  something  of  the  state  of  opinion 
among  British  naturalists  previous  to  the  appearance  of  Mr. 
Darwin's  "  Origin  of  Species."  I  can  myself  remember  the 
time  when  the  "  fixity  of  species  "  was  the  generally  accepted 
doctrine  among  zoologists  and  botanists ;  when  much  greater 
stress  was  laid  upon  points  of  difference  than  upon  points  of 
agreement ;  and  when  far  more  credit  was  attached  to  the 
multiplication  of  species  by  attention  to  minute  differences  than 
to  the  reduction  of  their  number  by  such  a  careful  comparison 
of  numerous  individuals  as  proved  these  differences  to  be  in- 
constant and  gradational.  So,  again,  it  was  the  general  creed 
of  the  older  palaeontologists  that  each  geological  period  had  a 
fauna  and  a  flora  of  its  own,  every,  member  of  which  must  be 
specifically  distinct  from  that  which  preceded  and  followed  it; 
a  complete  extinction  of  all  the  types  of  life  then  existing  having 
taken  place  at  the  end  of  every  such  period,  and  an  entirely  neiv 
creation  having  ushered  in  the  next.  This  school  has  been 
represented  among  Continental  naturalists  to  a  recent  period 
by  men  of  such  eminence  as  M.  D'Orbigny  and  Professor 
Agassiz  ;  but  it  has  long  since  died  out  in  Britain.  All  our 
most  esteemed   zoologists   and  botanists  have  latterly  studied 

*  A  larcije  part  of  this  was  afterwards  embodied  in  a  paper  entitled, 
"Charles  Darwin:  his  Life  and  Work,"  Modern  Review^  July,  1SS2.  A 
few  verbal  changes  made  in  this  paper  are  here  introduced. 


io6  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

the  range  of  variation  of  each  reputed  species,  as  one  of  the 
most  essential  features  of  its  character;  whilst  our  ablest 
Palaeontologists  have  laboured  with  success  in  tracing  the 
identity  of  numerous  species  whose  remains  occur  in  forma- 
tions stratigraphically  distinct.  It  was,  indeed,  a  favourite 
doctrine  of  the  late  Professor  Edward  Forbes,  that  there  was  a 
constant  relation  between  the  range  of  any  species  in  space  and 
its  range  in  titne  ;  i.e.  that  in  proportion  as  the  constitution  of 
any  species  adapted  it  to  diversities  in  climate,  food,  etc.,  so  as 
to  permit  its  extension  over  a  wide  geographical  area,  in  that 
proportion  would  it  have  been  able  to  accommodate  itself  to 
changes  in  the  same  condition,  so  as  to  hold  its  ground  through 
successive  geological  periods.  Further,  it  had  come  to  be  per- 
ceived that  where  the  stratigraphical  continuity  is  the  closest, 
there  is  the  greatest  resemblance  between  the  successive  faunae, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  different  members  of  the  Cretaceous 
series  ;  and  further,  that  where  there  is  an  interruption  to  such 
continuity  in  one  locality,  the  gap  is  often  bridged  over  else- 
where. And  even  as  regards  those  great  separations  which 
were  reputed  to  mark  the  terminations  of  the  Palaeozoic  and  of 
the  Mesozoic  series  respectively,  it  was  generally  believed  by 
geologists  of  the  newer  school  that  the  interruption  was  more 
apparent  than  real;  depending  merely  on  the  want  of  inter- 
mediate beds  in  that  small  portion  of  the  globe  which  has  been 
hitherto  explored.  A  geologist  who  has  formed  his  notions  of 
stratigraphical  succession  from  a  country  where  Tertiary  strata 
immediately  overlie  Silurian,  would  find  that  tremendous  hiatus 
in  great  degree  filled  up  by  the  intermediate  series  presented  in 
England  alone ;  and,  in  like  manner,  if  the  British  geologist 
could  carry  his  researches  into  areas  which  were  submerged 
when  Palaeozoic  and  Cretaceous  Europe  were  above  the  sea,  he 
could  doubtless  find  abundant  evidence  of  gradational  passage 
to  the  Mesozoic  and  Eocene.  Such  gradations,  it  is  now  well 
known,  are  not  wanting  within  the  limits  of  Europe,  and  are 
very  obvious  elsewhere. 

Even  in  the  pre-Darvvinian  epoch,  then,  many  of  our  most 
thouglitful  naturalists  were  disposed  to  admit  (i)  that  no  definite 
limits  can  be  assigned  to  the  variation  of  any  species  without 


DARWINISM  IN  ENGLAND.  107 

the  careful  collection  and  comparison  of  examples  of  the  type 
throughout  the  entire  extent  of  its  geographical  and  geological 
range,  and  (2)  that  a  very  considerable  amount  of  geiieric  con- 
tinuity existed  between  the  fauna  and  flora  of  successive  strata, 
extending  in  all  probability  to  what  are  known  as  representative 
species ;  as  well  as  to  types  between  which  the  gradational 
passage  could  be  shown  to  be  complete.  These  doctrines  I 
myself  strongly  advocated  in  the  first  of  the  memoirs  on  Fora- 
minifera  (entirely  devoted  to  the  genus  Orbitolites),  which  I 
have  presented  at  various  times  to  the  Royal  Society ;  and 
I  therein  cited,  in  support  of  them,  the  experience  of  several  of 
my  most  esteemed  brother-naturalists,  whose  views  on  this 
question  were  altogether  in  accordance  with  my  own.  And  if 
these  doctrines  be  admitted,  it  becomes  obvious  that  the  range 
of  any  true  species  in  geological  time  would  be  determined  only 
by  the  degree  of  its  capacity  to  accommodate  itself  to  changes 
in  the  conditions  of  its  existence;  and  that  there  is  no  a  priori 
reason  why  marine  types  having  a  large  capacity  of  this  kind 
should  not  maintain  their  existence  through  a  long  succession 
of  epochs.  That  existing  species  of  mollusca  are  met  with  even 
in  the  earliest  Tertiary  strata,  and  in  increasing  proportion  in 
the  later,  had  been  demonstrated  by  M.  Deshayes,  and  made  by 
Sir  C.  Lyell  the  foundation  of  his  classification  of  the  Tertiary 
series.  That  numerous  types  of  Foraminifera  and  Diatomacese 
characteristic  of  the  Cretaceous  period  are  existing  at  the  present 
time,  had  been  shown  by  Professor  Ehrenberg.  And  Messrs. 
Parker  and  Rupert  Jones  had  shown  the  identity  of  even  Triassic 
Foraminifera  with  types  still  inhabiting  the  Mediterranean. 

However  limited  in  scope  were  these  pre-Darwinian  views, 
as  compared  with  those  developed  in  the  "  Origin  of  Species," 
they  had  taken  the  same  direction,  and  in  some  degree  pre- 
pared the  way  for  their  reception  ;  as  had  also  an  application  of 
Von  Baer's  great  doctrine  of  Development  from  the  General  to  the 
Special^  which  was  first  (I  believe)  put  forward  by  Professor 
Broun,  and  which  I  myself  worked  out  (in  ignorance  of  his 
having  already  done  so)  in  the  third  edition  of  my  "  General 
and  Comparative  Physiology."  For  I  there  dwelt  upon  several 
cases  in  which  the  earlier  forms  of  certain  great  types  presented 


io8  MEMORIAL    SKETCH. 

genei'alizeil  combinations  of  characters,  which  subsequently  be- 
came more  and  more  distinctly  specialized  in  the  progress  of 
geological  time.  But  I  put  forth  this  merely  as  an  expression 
of  the  plan  according  to  which  the  succession  of  animal  and 
vegetable  forms  had  been  created,  not  as  indicating  any  genetic 
continuity  between  the  earlier  and  the  later.  Some  years  before, 
indeed,  while  criticizing  the  "Vestiges  of  the  Natural  History 
of  Creation,"  and  exposing  the  unsoundness  of  the  author's 
data  and  the  fallacy  of  his  reasonings,  I  had  taken  occasion  to 
say  that  I  had  not  the  least  objection,  either  philosophical  or 
theological,  to  the  doctrine  of  Progressive  Development,  if  only 
it  could  be  shown  to  have  a  really  scientific  basis  :  since  the 
development  of  the  very  highest  type  of  animal  life  from  the 
very  lowest,  during  the  long  succession  of  geological  ages,  did 
not  seem  to  me  more  strange  than  the  actual  development  of 
that  same  type  during  a  nine  months'  gestation.  And  I  had 
further  argued  that  it  really  involves  a  far  higher  idea  of  Creative 
Design  to  believe  that  a  small  number  of  types  of  organic  life 
originally  introduced  were  continuously  evolved  in  the  course 
of  geological  ages,  according  to  a  definite  and  unchanging  plan, 
into  a  countless  variety  of  forms  suitable  to  the  "conditions  of 
existence  "  at  each  period,  and  finally  into  the  flora  and  fauna 
of  the  present  epoch, — than  to  suppose  that  the  changes  which 
successively  took  place  in  those  conditions  necessitated  inter- 
ferences from  time  to  time  on  the  part  of  the  Creator,  in  com- 
pensating, by  the  creation  of  new  species,  for  the  extinction  of 
the  old.  For,  to  compare  great  things  with  small,  we  regard 
the  production  of  a  chronometer  whose  pendulum  or  balance- 
spring  is  furnished  with  a  self-acting  compensation  for  changes 
of  temperature,  as  a  higher  effort  of  constructive  skill  than  the 
production  of  an  ordinary  clock  or  watch,  in  which  the  needful 
compensations  have  to  be  made,  as  occasion  requires  by  the 
interposition  of  an  external  power. 

By  those  who  had  been  following  the  line  of  thought  I  have 
just  indicated,  the  publication  of  Mr.  Darwin's  "  Origin  of 
Species  "  was  felt,  as  by  myself,  to  be  the  inauguration  of  a 
new  era  in  a  biological  science.  It  gave  a  distinct  shape  to 
ideas  on  which  many  of  us  had  been  pondering  as  vague  specu- 


DARWINISM  IN  ENGLAND.  109 

lative  possibilities.  It  showed  that  the  doctrine  of  Progressive 
Development  might  be  put  into  the  form  of  a  definite  scientific 
hypothesis;  in  favour  of  which  a  vast  mass  of  evidence  could 
be  adduced,  whilst  the  objections  to  its  acceptance  were  shown 
to  arise  chiefly  out  of  that  "  imperfection  of  the  geological 
record"  which  we  were  all  prepared  to  admit.  It  showed  that 
on  general  grounds  the  probability  of  a  genetic  continuity  of 
organic  life  throughout  the  geological  series— the  fauna  and 
flora  of  any  epoch  being  the  product  of  "descent  with  modifica- 
tion" from  that  which  preceded  it, — is  far  greater  than  that  of 
successive  n^\s  creations.  And  to  such  as  admitted  this,  it  was 
plain  that  the  conclusion  can  scarcely  be  evaded,  that  as  the 
tendency  throughout  has  been  clearly  one  of  progressive  dif- 
ferentiation or  specialization,  the  number  of  original  types  might 
have  been  very  small — perhaps  even  a  single  primordial  "jelly- 
speck  "  being  the  common  ancestor  of  all. 

But  we  could  not  attach  the  importance  which  Mr.  Darwin 
seemed  to  do,  to  the  doctrine  of  Natural  Selection,  or  the 
"  survival  of  the  fittest,"  as  in  itself  an  adequate  explanation  of 
the  progressive  modifications  that  have  produced  the  long  and 
diversified  succession  of  animal  and  vegetable  forms  which  have 
peopled  our  globe  from  the  first  appearance  of  life  on  its  surface 
to  the  present  time.  The  instances  adduced  by  Mr.  Darwin  as 
results  of  artificial  selection  were  cases  of  varietal  modification 
only ;  and  he  was  unable  to  prove  that  the  character  which 
most  strongly  marks  what  the  naturalist  had  been  accustomed 
to  accept  as  a  true  species — viz.  its  incapacity  for  producing  with 
any  congener  an  intermediate  self-sustaining  race — is  otherwise 
than  fixed  and  permanent.  All  that  he  could  show  is  that 
va?'ieties  placed  under  artificial  conditions  may  come  to  be  so 
far  differentiated  constitutionally  as  to  breed  together  with 
difiiculty.  But  of  the  actual  origination  of  what  a  philosophical 
botanist  or  zoologist  would  accept  as  a  true  species,  incapable 
of  breeding  except  with  its  own  type,  I  do  not  recollect  that  he 
was  able  to  produce  any  instance  whatever.  If,  then,  Natural 
Selection  could  not  be  shown  to  have  produced  a  new  species, 
still  less  could  it  be  looked  to  as  a  vera  causa,  for  the  establish- 
ment of  still  greater  differences. 


no  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

But  it  is  further  obvious  that  Natural  Selection  can  only 
operate  where  a  capacity  for  variation  is  inherent  in  the  type. 
There  are  some  types  of  which  the  range  of  variation  is  so 
restricted  that  they  can  only  exist  at  all  under  certain  combina- 
tions of  conditions ;  their  distribution,  therefore,  being  limited 
alike  in  space  and  in  time.  There  are  others  which  have  a 
much  wider  range,  being  able  to  adapt  themselves  to  great 
diversities  in  external  conditions ;  but  it  cannot  be  justly  said 
that  the  variations  which  these  present  are  "  spontaneous." 
Every  effect  requires  a  cause.  Natural  Selection  is  assuredly 
not  that  cause,  since  its  effect  is  only  to  perpetuate,  among 
varietal  forms,  that  one  which  best  suits  the  conditions  of  exist- 
ence. Consequently  we  must  look  io  forces  acting  either  within 
or  without  the  organism,  as  the  real  agents  in  producing  what- 
ever developmental  variations  it  may  take  on.  Of  the  action  of 
such  forces,  we  at  present  know  scarcely  anything;  and  Mr. 
Darwin  has  not  given  us  much  help  towards  the  solution  of  the 
problem.*  But  this  much  seems  to  me  clear  :  that  just  as  there 
is  at  the  present  time  a  determinate  capacity  for  a  certain  fixed 
kind  of  development  in  each  germ,  in  virtue  of  which  one 
evolves  itself  into  a  zoophyte,  and  another  (though  not  originally 
distinguishable  from  it)  into  a  man,  so  must  the  primordial 
germs  have  been  endowed  each  with  its  determinate  capacity 
for  a  particular  course  of  development ;  in  virtue  of  which  it 
has  evolved  the  whole  succession  of  forms  that  has  ultimately 
proceeded  from  it.  That  the  "  accidents  "  of  Natural  Selection 
should  hsiwe  produced  that  orderly  succession,  is  to  my  own  mind 
inconceivable  ;  I  cannot  but  believe  that  its  evolution  was  part 
of  the  original  Creative  Design ;  and  that  the  operation  of 
Natural  Selection  has  been  simply  to  limit  the  survivorship, 
among  the  entire  range  of  forms  that  have  thus  successively 
come  into  existence,  to  those  which  were  suited  to  maintain  that 
existence  at  each  period. 

*  In  1882  this  last  clause  ran  thus  : — "But  Mr.  Darwin  has  himself  most 
"  fully  recognized  the  need  of  them.  His  latest  utterance  on  the  subject  is  that 
"  'at  the  present  time  there  is  hardly  any  question  in  biology  of  more  import- 
"  'ance  than  that  of  the  nature  and  causes  of  variability.'  I  cannot,  then,  be 
"accused  of  undervaluing  1  )arvvin's  work,  in  pointing  out  that  what  I  originally 
"felt  to  be  its  weakest  part,  still  remains  incomplete." 


DARWINISM  IN  ENGLAND.  iii 

That  something  of  this  kind  is  felt  by  most  of  those  British 
naturaHsts  who,  hke  myself,  accept  the  doctrine  of  continuity 
by  "  descent  with  modification,"  is  more  than  I  can  possibly 
affirm ;  but  I  believe  that  such  as  have  thought  most  deeply  on 
the  subject  are  quite  satisfied  that  the  doctrine  of  Natural 
Selection  docs  not  of  I'tse//  afford  an  adequate  explanation  of  the 
phenomena  that  have  to  be  accounted  for.  Of  that  genetic 
continuity,  however,  every  extension  of  palteontological  know- 
ledge affords  additional  evidence.  A  most  striking  example  is 
afforded  by  the  gradual  divarication  of  the  Ruminant  and 
Pachyderm  orders,  and  of  the  family  subdivisions  of  the  latter, 
which  can  be  now  traced  through  the  Tertiary  and  Quaternary 
series.  Every  naturalist  knows  that  the  Anoplotherium  and 
other  mammals  whose  fossil  remains  occur  in  the  Eocene 
Tertiaries  of  Paris,  presented  most  remarkable  combinations  of 
pachyderm  and  ruminant  characters,  which  are  completely 
separated  and  specialized  in  Pliocene  and  post-Pliocene  genera. 
A  few  years  ago  a  remarkable  collection  of  mammalian  fossils 
was  discovered  at  Pikermi  in  Greece  ;  and  the  study  of  these, 
most  carefully  prosecuted  by  M.  Gaudry,  of  the  Jardin  des 
Plantes,  has  shown  that  they  supplied  such  a  number  of 
"  missing  links,"  that  the  genetic  derivation  of  the  latter  more 
specialized  types  from  the  earlier  more  generalized  could  scarcely 
remain  a  matter  of  doubt  to  any  naturalist  not  previously 
wedded  to  the  doctrine  of  special  creations.  On  the  basis  of  a 
very  careful  examination  of  the  whole  series  as  completed  by 
recent  American  discoveries,  Professor  Huxley  has  been  able 
to  construct  a  "  Pedigree  of  the  Horse,"  so  complete  that  nothing 
is  now  wanting  to  its  entire  continuity  from  the  Eocene  period 
to  the  present. 

Again,  the  Deep-Sea  researches  in  which  it  has  been  my 
privilege  to  bear  a  part,  have  shown  that  a  large  number  of 
Cretaceous  Echinoderms,  Corals,  Sponges,  and  Foraminifera, 
as  well  as  of  Tertiary  Mollusca,  supposed  to  be  extinct,  survive 
in  the  depth  of  the  ocean  at  the  present  time  ;  these  types  being 
in  some  cases  specifically  identical,  whilst  in  others  the  modifica- 
tion they  have  undergone  is  so  limited  as  to  justify  their  being 
accounted  representative  species.     This  has  been  the  result^  not 


113  MEMORIAL   SKETCH.     . 

merely  of  the  dredging  expeditions  conducted  by  my  colleagues 
(Professor  Wyville  Thomson  and  Mr.  J.  Gvvyn  Jeffreys)  and 
myself,  but  also  of  the  like  exploration  carried  on  by  the 
United  States  Coast  Survey  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  elsewhere. 
[One  of  the  most  characteristic  examples  of  it  is  presented  by 
the  little  Rhizocritius  Lofotensis ;  the  discovery  of  which  by 
G.  Sars,  off  the  coast  of  Norway,  in  1866,  gave  the  start  to  our 
own  work.  For  this  is  clearly  a  dwarfed  and  deformed  repre- 
sentative of  the  highly-developed  Apiocrimis  (Pear  encrinite) 
of  the  Bradford  clay  (Wiltshire  Oolite)  ;  which,  as  my  friend 
Wyville  Thomson  said,  "  seems  to  have  been  going  to  the  bad 
"  for  millions  of  years,''  under  the  influence  of  a  reduced 
temperature.] 

To  most  English  naturalists  it  seems  premature  at  present 
to  attempt  to  construct  a  pedigree  of  the  animal  kingdom 
generally,  as  has  been  done  by  Professor  Haeckel  and  other 
naturalists  in  Germany.  It  appears  that  the  palseontological  as 
well  as  the  developmental  history  of  each  group  must  be  much 
more  completely  ascertained  before  any  but  tentative  arrange- 
ments of  this  kind  can  be  formed.  Thus,  while  some  of  us 
have  found  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  all  existing  birds  have 
arisen  from  one  common  stock,  the  derivation  of  that  stock  from 
a  common  stirps  with  the  reptilian  at  first  appeared  almost 
inconceivable  ;  birds  and  reptiles  being  physiologically  almost 
the  antithesis  of  each  other.  But  the  discovery  of  the  Archse- 
opteryx  has  shown  that  a  true  bird  may  have  a  prolonged  and 
distinctly  jointed  tail.  The  careful  comparison  made  by  Mr. 
Seeley  of  the  skull  of  the  Pterodactyl  with  that  of  the  Fowl,  led 
him  to  conclude  that  the  former  must  have  had  a  development 
of  brain  scarcely  inferior  to  the  latter,  and  was  likely,  therefore, 
to  have  had  a  circulation  as  vigorous  and  complete  as  that  of 
birds.  [And  the  researches  of  Professor  Marsh  in  the  Cretaceous 
strata  of  North  America,  have  brought  together  a  vast  numljer 
of  "missing  links"  in  the  form  of  Pterodactyls  which  resemble 
birds  in  the  want  of  teeth,  and  cf  birds  which  correspond  with 
reptiles  in  the  possession  of  them.]  Further,  the  development 
of  the  Struthious  birds,  which  were  formerly  supposed  to  have 
the  closest  mammalian  affinities,  is  now  found  to  be  much  mure 


DARWINISM  IN  ENGLAND.  113 

reptilian  than  mammalian  ;  while  certain  Dinosaurian  reptiles 
present  distinct  indications  of  progress  towards  birds.  And 
thus  it  does  not  seem  at  all  unlikely  that  evidence  may  here- 
after be  obtained,  which  may  adequately  support  the  idea  of 
the  descent  even  of  birds  and  reptiles  from  a  common 
ancestor.* 

In  the  mean  time  I  think  I  may  say  with  confidence  that  all 
British  naturalists  who  are  not  dominated  by  the  prejudices  of 
a  bygone  age,  accept  the  general  doctrine  of  Continuity  as — 
to  say  the  least — a  good  working  hypothesis,  under  the  guidance 
of  which  their  inquiries  may  be  advantageously  prosecuted; 
and  that  they  feel  the  great  desideratum  to  be  the  acquirement 
of  such  a  knowledge  of  extinct  types,  as  may  give  to  the  entire 
pedigree  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms  a  completeness 
approaching  that  of  the  pedigrees  already  constructed  for  par- 
ticular families  ;  and  such  an  elucidation  of  the  causes  of  varia- 
tion as  may  show  under  what  circumstances  those  marked 
divergences  of  type  took  place,  whereby  distinct  classes,  orders, 
families,  and  genera  successively  came  into  existence. 


IX. 

The  cessation  of  the  summer  cruises  in  which  Dr. 
Carpenter  took  so  active  a  share,  and  the  completion  of 
the  new  building  of  the  University  of  London,  which  had 
involved  him  in  much  additional  and  anxious  labour  be- 
yond his  ordinary  duties,  set  him  free  for  other  tasks.  He 
had  become  the  secretary  to  the  Gilchrist  Educational  Trust 
on  its  first  establishment  in  1865,  and  was  thus  brought  into 
connection  with  a  large  number  of  educational  movements 
all  over  the  country.  This  was  especially  the  case  with 
the  courses  of  popular  scientific  lectures  for  the  working 
classes  in  various  large  towns,  the  organization  of  which 
fell  chiefly  upon  him.     He  resumed  his  place  himself  upon 

*  In    1S82 :     "And    thus    the   evidence    now   in   course    of   accumulation 
"already  afifoids  adequate  support  to  the  idea,  etc." 


114  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

the  platform,  with  the  prestige  of  diversified  experience 
and  eminent  scientific  authority.  Winter  after  winter  he 
made  a  rapid  tour,  lecturing  four  or  five  nights  a  week,  to 
vast  assemblies  rising  from  twelve  to  eighteen  hundred 
people.  His  subjects  often  lay  far  apart ;  sometimes  they 
were  suggested  by  the  physical  or  biological  conditions  of 
the  deep  sea  ;  sometimes  they  dealt  with  popular  applica- 
tions of  important  physiological  and  psychological  prin- 
ciples, as  when  he  discoursed  of  human  automatism  or 
epidemic  delusions  ;  or,  again,  they  were  fetched  from  his 
experiences  of  travel,  it  might  be  in  the  Nile  valley,  or 
(subsequently)  at  Niagara,  when  any  chance  listener  who 
had  trodden  the  same  ground  would  often  find  that  he  had 
nearly  as  much  to  learn  as  those  who  had  stayed  at  home. 
In  such  discourses  (and  this  was  also  characteristic  of  some 
of  his  writing  in  later  years),  Dr.  Carpenter  often  fell  in- 
stinctively into  a  sort  of  autobiographical  vein.  He  had 
been  mixed  up  with  so  many  important  movements,  and 
had  seen  so  much  of  their  working,  that  it  seemed  the 
most  natural  thing  to  him  to  illustrate  almost  every  fresh 
topic  by  his  own  personal  experiences,  or  his  own  contribu- 
tion of  action,  knowledge,  or  thought,  to  the  matter  under 
discussion.  Such  references  were  not  inconsistent  with  a 
real  modesty,  though  they  did  not  always  convey  that 
impression.  They  poured  out  from  his  lips,  or  his  pen, 
simply  because  they  appeared  to  him  the  most  suitable 
to  his  purpose  ;  and  they  often  stood  side  by  side  with 
an  original  teaching  of  far  higher  value.  In  a  lecture 
oil  Niagara,  he  once  related  what  Oersted  had  said  to 
him  about  it  in  a  way  which  excited  some  amusement 
for  its  evidently  unconscious  egotism  ;  "  but  Oersted's  re- 
marks," it  was  observed,  "  which  were  the  substance  of 
"  the  story,  were  commonplace  compared  to  Dr.  Car- 
"penter's  own  comments,  which  were  thrown  in  incident- 


POPULAR  LECTURES.  115 

"ally  and  apparently  with  no  sense  of  their  greatly 
"superior  importance."  To  great  popular  audiences  this 
practice  only  seemed  like  taking  them  into  a  familiar 
intimacy,  and  it  made  them  feel  immediately  at  ease.  In 
each  new  town  which  he  visited,  he  was  always  interested 
in  the  leading  industries  and  manufactures ;  and  some 
apt  illustration,  borrowed  perhaps  from  a  local  process 
which  he  had  that  morning  witnessed,  caught  the  atten- 
tion of  his  hearers,  which  never  flagged  to  the  close. 
Nothing,  indeed,  was  more  striking  than  the  breathless 
suspense  with  which  a  complicated  argument  would  be 
followed,  the  gathering  excitement  as  the  conclusion  to 
which  it  pointed  first  came  distantly  into  view,  and  the 
burst  of  applause  attending  its  final  demonstration.  But 
Dr.  Carpenter  was  never  dependent  on  the  stimulus 
afforded  by  these  popular  manifestations.  He  was  very 
generous  of  his  time  and  thought  even  for  small  causes. 
He  would  take  as  much  pains  to  speak  to  a  little  band 
assembled  in  the  school-room  at  Hampstead,*  or  to  the 
poor  and  uncultivated  at  an  East-end  Mission,  as  to  his 
equals  and  critics  at  the  Royal  Institution,  or  the  huge 
and  eager  gatherings  of  a  northern  town. 

Such  lecture-tours,  however,  were  the  recreation  of  Dr. 
Carpenter's  spare  time,  rather  than  the  occupation  of  the 
working  hours  saved  from  his  University  duty.  These 
were  devoted  with  unflagging  vigour  to  the  various 
branches  of  research  in  which  he  was  continuously  en- 
gaged. One  little  stream  of  notes  and  papers  communi- 
cated to  the  scientific  periodicals  dealt  with  his  former 
clients,  Comatula  and  Eozoon.  Another  was  concerned 
with  the   theory  of  oceanic  circulation,  currents,  tempera- 

*  Only  last  summer  a  gardener  at  Hampstead  referred  to  a  lecture  on 
mildew,  delivered  many  years  before,  as  having  been  of  great  practical  use 
to  him. 


ii6  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

ture,  and  the  physical  geography  both  of  the  deep  and 
inland  seas.  And  a  third,  growing  in  bulk  and  importance, 
related  to  the  old  questions  of  psychology  and  religious 
philosophy,  on  which  he  had  been  silently  pondering  since 
1854.  He  entered  the  field  once  more  with  papers  on  the 
"  Physiology  of  the  Will  "  (1871),  and  "Common  Sense" 
(February,  1872).  In  the  summer  of  1872  he  presided 
over  the  meeting  of  the  British  Association  for  the  Ad- 
vancement of  Science  at  Brighton,  and  took  as  the  theme 
of  his  address  the  interpretation  of  nature  by  man.*  A 
succession  of  articles  on  kindred  topics  followed  in  the 
next  three  years,  while  he  devoted  himself  to  the  project 
which  he  had  long  entertained,  of  enlarging  the  outline  of 
.his  chapters  on  the  nervous  system  in  the  fourth  edition 
of  his  "  Human  Physiology."  This  was  completed  in 
1874,  under  the  title  of  "Principles  of  Mental  Physiology, 
with  their  Applications  to  the  Training  and  Discipline  of 
the  Mind,  and  the  Study  of  its  Morbid  Conditions."  Into 
this  book  he  poured  much  of  his  most  earnest  thought,  his 
observations  on  human  character,  his  meditations  on  the 
conduct  of  life.  Starting  from  the  functions  of  the  dif- 
ferent portions  of  the  nervous  system,")*  he  sketched  the 
natural  history  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  discriminated 
with  the  added  precision  of  twenty  years'  consideration, 
between  the  two  spheres  of  automatic  action  and  volitional 
control.  Reflection  had  only  confirmed  him  in  the  views 
which  his  physiological  inquiries  had  originally  generated  ; 
and  he  had  accumulated  a  large  store  of  illustrations,  which 
threw  new  and  suggestive  lights  on  the  meaning  of  many 
of  the  commonest  experiences.  The  attention  which  he 
had  bestowed  on  many  abnormal  mental  phenomena,  and 

*  See  below,  p.  185. 

t  Subsequent  investigations  have  thrown  doubt  on  some  of  his  positions, 
but  it  is  not  perhaps  too  much  to  say  that  in  the  present  state  of  knowledge 
the  view  which  he  offers  still  remains  more  coherent  than  any  other. 


''MENTAL   PHYSIOLOGY."^  117 

the  openness  of  mind  with  which  he  surveyed  them,  gave 
especial  value  to  his  treatment  of  difficult  questions  on 
the  border-land  of  the  marvellous.  Students  of  philo- 
sophy who  found  that  he  approached  their  problems  from 
the  scientific  rather  than  the  metaphysical  side,  sometimes 
discovered  gaps  in  his  reasoning,  even  while  they  shared 
his  conclusions.  This  was  especially  the  case  in  his  dis- 
cussions of  speculative  themes  such  as  the  nature  of  the 
external  world,  or  the  presence  of  Mind  and  Will  in  the 
Universe,  to  which  the  argument  of  the  whole  book  was 
one  long  prelude.  He  had  not  had  a  metaphysician's  train- 
ing ;  and  could  not  think  in  his  language,  or  dwell  at  ease 
with  his  abstractions.  When  he  read  the  treatises  of 
Principal  Caird  or  Professor  Edward  Caird,  and  attempted 
to  master  the  principles  of  Kant  or  Hegel,  he  felt  himself 
in  a  strange  land,  among  men  of  other  tongues  which  he 
could  not  learn.  But  he  believed  that  what  was  on  one 
side  a  limitation,  might  be  on  another  a  source  of  strength. 
He  managed  to  combine  with  the  idealism  of  Berkeley 
and  Mill  a  robust  realism  which  was  intelligible  to  the 
ordinary  reader  ;  and  he  hoped  that  he  might  act  as  the 
interpreter  of  important  scientific  truths  to  a  growing 
number  of  religious  minds  whose  faith  could  not  live  in 
the  attenuated  air  of  the  new  agnosticism. 

One  great  desire  I  have  (he  wrote  to  his  brother  Russell 
in  the  birthday  letter,  this  time  on  the  right  date,  of  December, 
1874),  to  be  of  some  use  as  a  mediator  in  the  conflict  which  has 
now  distinctly  begun  between  science  and  theology.  I  see 
quite  clearly  that  it  is  of  no  use  to  try  to  grapple  with  the  sub- 
ject unless  one  thoroughly  masters  the  question  on  both  sides. 
On  the  scientific  side  I  find  it  taking  a  development  such  as 
I  never  dreamed  of,  as  in  Professor  Clifford's  Sunday  1-ecture 
published  in  the  last  Fortnightly^  in  which  it  is  asserted  that 
there  is  no  room  for  a  God  within  the  solar  system  ;  while  his 
and  H.'s  doctrine  of  human  automatism  pure  and  simple,  seems 


ii8  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

to  me  to  strike  at  the  root  of  all  moral  responsibility.  I  am 
going  to  reply  to  this  in  the  Contemporary  Review  for  Feb- 
ruary. I  know  that  there  are  a  number  of  thoughtful  people, 
especially  among  the  clergy,  who  look  to  me  for  guidance  on 
these  matters,  and  I  am  anxious  not  to  fail  in  giving  it.  I  have 
the  greatest  confidence  in  the  ultimate  prevalence  of  truth  ;  and 
the  surging  up  of  the  depths  only  makes  me  feel  that  the 
bottom  is  reached  more  nearly  than  on  previous  occasions. 

The  interest  excited  by  these  varied  labours  was  in- 
dicated in  the  letters  which  Dr.  Carpenter  often  received 
from  those  who  were  eminent  in  philosophy,  in  public 
affairs,  and  literature,  of  which  the  following  criticisms  and 
acknowledgments  may  serve  as  specimens  : — 


From  the  Rev.  Dr.  Martineau. 

Dolgelly,  September  8,  1872. 
I  was  presuming  enough  to  hope  for  an  authorized  copy  of 
your  Address,*  and  so  refrained  from  looking  at  the  imperfect 
newspaper  reports  which  fell  in  my  way.  Your  kind  remem- 
brance of  me  in  your  presentations  has  enabled  me  to  read  it 
with  the  careful  attention  it  requires  and  repays.  It  is  full  of 
interest  from  beginning  to  end  ;  and  I  need  not  say  that  its 
main  drift  and  purpose  appear  to  me  at  once  philosophical  and 
seasonable.  The  distinction  on  which  you  insist  between  the 
"  law  "  and  the  "  cause  "  of  phenomena  is  assuredly  real  and 
of  the  utmost  moment :  and  no  survey  of  the  ultimate  logic  of 
science  can  be  long  regarded  as  adequate  which  does  not  pro- 
vide for  it.  If  I  had  taken  in  hand  to  enforce  it,  I  should  have 
expressed  myself  (doubtless  to  the  great  disgust  of  my  hearers) 
in  terms  more  metaphysical  than  you  have  deemed  it  needful  to 
employ,  being  convinced— possibly  through  over-estimate  of  my 
habitual  pursuits— that  there  is  no  firm  basis  for  the  distinction, 
unless  we  resort  to  the  d  priori  postulates  of  thought.  For 
science,  in  its  researches  into  Nature,  I  do  not  see  how  we  can 

*  The  Address  delivered  at  the  Brighton  meeting  of  the  British  Association 
in  the  previous  August.     See  p.  185. 


PHILOSOPHY  AND   PSYCHOLOGY.  119 

claim  more  than  access  to  the  laws  of  phenomena,  in  their 
grouping  and  succession  ;  nor  can  I  hesitate  to  accept  the  posi- 
tivist  dictum  ^yx'AS.  causes  lie  entirely  beyond  scientific  cognizance. 
Our  own  causality,  as  you  justly  say,  we  do  directly  know ;  but 
causality  other  than  oiir  own  we  do  not  know  by  either  observa- 
tion or  consciousness  ;  we  observe  only  movements  ;  we  feel  only 
certain  sensations  of  our  own ;  both  of  which  are  phenomena 
and  not  their  causes  ;  and  our  reference  of  such  things  to  an 
objective  causality  which  is  not  in  our  experience  is,  I  take  it,  an 
intuitive  intellectual  act,  planting  outside  of  us  the  counterpart 
and  antithesis  of  the  power  which  we  put  forth  from  within. 
If  the  authority  of  this  intellectual  act  as  a  prior  condition  of  our 
thinking  of  phenomena  at  all  is  denied,  no  ground  whatever 
appears  to  me  to  remain  for  "  dynamical  laws  ;  "  and  either  Mill 
or  Biichner  would  easily  throw  back  your  second  class  into  the 
first  They  would  ask  what  more  you  find  in  the  "  conditions 
of  the  action  of  a  force  "  than  the  concurrence  or  sequence  of 
phenomena  ;  and  would  protest  that  the  "  direct  consciousness  " 
to  which  you  appeal  is  still  nothing  but  an  order  of  feelings,  i.e. 
of  internal  "  phenomena ;  "  and  on  the  ground  of  scientific  ex- 
perience and  method,  I  really  do  not  see  how  an  answer  could 
be  given  to  this.  Besides  Mill's  reduction  of  all  mathematical 
and  physical  axioms  to  inductions  on  observed  uniformities,  we 
have  now  Continental  physicicns  calling  in  question  Newton's 
first  law  of  motion  ;  so  that,  among  those  who  decline  all 
obligations  to  metaphysical  assumptions,  the  distinction  which 
you  would  draw  between  Kepler's  laws  and  Newton's  is  being 
broken  down.  As  to  Biichner,  since  he  contends,  as  you  do, 
for  our  scientific  knowledge  of  "  force  "  (as  well  as  "  matter"), 
and  therefore  does  not  stop  short  with  your  first  class  of  "  laws," 
but  proceeds  to  the  second,  I  do  not  see  why  he  may  not, 
with  you,  speak  of  such  laws  as  "  governing  "  or  "  explaining  " 
phenomena. 

So  much  for  my  old  client,  Metaphysics  versus  Physics.  He 
is  always  bothering  you,  if  you  try  to  dispense  with  him.  The 
only  other  point  that  I  should  like  to  remark  upon  is  a  use 
(which  seems  to  me  the  source  of  misapprehension)  of  the  word 
intuition.   It  is  certainly  common  to  speak  of  any  apprehension  at 


I20  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

a  glance,  though  it  may  be  a  shorthand  compend  of  many  steps, 
as  "  intuitive ; "  and  in  this  sense.  Bidder's  calculations,  the 
visual  interpretation  of  distance,  etc.,  may  be  called  "intuitive;" 
and  you  may  speak  of  "  the  tendency  to  form  intuitions,"  etc. 
But  in  accurate  metaphysical  speech  "  intuition  "  denotes — like 
the  phrase  "  a  priori  cognition  " — a  primary  condition  of  thought 
at  all,  a  belief  or  cognition  presupposed  in  experience,  and  con- 
stitutive of  it.  Such  cognitions  {e.g.  space,  time,  cause)  must 
seem  to  us  immediate  and  irresolvable  (being  really  so) ;  but  it 
is  not  this  seeming  (which  may  be  simulated  by  acquired  states) 
which  earns  the  name  :  if  they  can  be  resolved,  they  do  not 
deserve  it,  and  it  must  be  handed  back  to  their  primary  ele- 
ments till  you  get  to  that  which  you  must  bring  into  experience 
if  you  are  to  think  it  at  all.  Hence  the  explanation  of  intuitions 
by  ancestral  inheritance  is  necessarily  without  result.  The  pri- 
mary conditions  of  thought  cannot  be  the  effect  of  converging  or 
accumulating  lines  of  thought.  All  that  habit,  personal  or 
transmitted,  can  do,  is  to  facilitate  and  condense  mental  actions 
once  difficult  and  consciously  successive ;  so  as  to  conceal  the 
steps  and  prevent  detection  of  the  elementary  intuitions.  But 
those  elementary  intuitions  must  be  there,  though  we  may  have 
got  hold  of  the  wrong  things  for  them.  Thus  by  denying  that  my 
(seeming)  intuitions  were  intuitions  to  my  hundredth  grandfather, 
you  only  evade  the  question  by  pushing  it  back.  Of  course,  in 
one  sense,  no  one  denies  the  genesis  of  intuitions,  more  than  of 
any  other  function  of  a  human  being  who,  from  end  to  end,  has 
to  be  born.  The  question  is  not  of  the  ph3'siological  building  up 
of  the  conditions  of  life,  but  of  i7itellcctual  derivation  ;  and  the 
intuition  doctrine  simply  maintains  that  intellectual  action 
cannot  take  place  at  all,  without  certain  cognitive  elements 
being  supplied  from  vi^ithin. 

I  was  interested  in  your  new  case  of  recovered  vision.  It 
adds  a  valuable  fact.  I  fancy,  however,  that  the  theory  to  which 
we  have  been  accustomed  requires  a  good  deal  of  qualification. 
Even  in  this  case,  why  should  the  patient  accuse  herself  of 
"  stupidity "  in  not  recognizing  the  scissors,  if  the  means  of 
recoo'nition  were  not  there?  The  co-ordination  of  the  visual 
and  tactual  experiences  is  already  within  reach  by  the  muscular 


PHILOSOPHY  AND   PSYCHOLOGY.  121 

traversing  of  the  eye  ;  and  the  lesson  is  easier  in  proportion  to 
the  command  over  the  needful  movements. 

I  shall  look  with  much  interest  to  your  further  treatment  of 
such  topics  in  the  Contemporary,  and  especially  for  your 
elucidation  of  the  "  sense  of  effort,"  an  obscure  point  on  wliich 
light  would  be  most  welcome.  As  at  present  informed,  I  think 
too  much  is  attributed  to  the  "muscular  sense,"  notwithstand- 
ing its  value  as  a  measure  of  force. 

From  the  Right  Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone,  M.P. 

10,  Downing  Street,  January  13,  1873. 

I  have  read,  though  only  quite  recently,  the  paper  you  were 
so  good  as  to  send  on  the  '*  Physical  Condition  of  Inland  Seas ; " 
and  I  am  very  glad  it  has  been  in  the  power  of  the  Government 
to  meet  your  wishes  in  this  important  and  most  attractive  branch 
of  inquiry. 

I  have  also  read  your  paper  on  "  Hereditary  Transmission  " 
in  the  Contemporary  Review  *  and  I  venture  to  offer  two  remarks. 

First,  with  regard  to  handwriting.  I  could  name  two  most 
conspicuous  instances  of  eldest  sons  who  presented  in  the  main 
a  strong  contrast  to  their  fathers  in  character,  but  who  in  hand- 
writing strongly,  and  in  their  autographs  most  closely,  resembled 
them. 

Secondly,  with  regard  to  colour.  I  should  say  that  my 
observations  on  hereditary  transmission  have  been  human  only, 
and  in  their  very  limited  ranges  have  turned  on  the  comparison 
of  ancient  and  modern  men  ;  as  to  whom  generally  it  has 
appeared  to  me  that  there  had  been  probably  in  simultaneous 
operation  opposite  processes,  on  the  one  side  of  growth  and 
development,  on  the  other  of  dilapidation.  What  I  would  now 
mention  relates  to  the  former  of  the  two.  Examination  of  the 
text  of  Homer,  with  respect  to  colours,  convinced  me  that  the 
ready  perception  of  them,  which  our  children  generally  display, 
was  an  acquired  aptitude,  standing  in  marked  contrast  with  the 
perceptions  of  three  thousand  years  ago,  as  they  are  represented 

*  "  On  the  Hereditary  Transmission  of  Acquired  Psychical  Habits,"  in 
the  Cotilemporary  Review  for  January,  1873  ;  the  subject  was  continued  in  the 
April  and  May  numbers. 


122  MEMORIAL   SKETCH.      ' 

by  the  poet,  whose  views  of  specific  colour  appear  to  show  much 
defect  and  confusion,  while  his  sense  of  light  was  most  vivid, 
and  his  sense  of  form  alike  strong  and  refined. 

From  Dr.  OLIVER  Wendell  Holmes.* 

Boston,  Mass.,  U.S.,  May  9,  1874. 
I  have  been  for  such  a  long  series  of  years  your  debtor, 
having  been  familiar  with  your  writings  since  the  first  essay 
which  brought  you  into  notice,  having  always  almost  within 
arm's  length  your  Physiologies,  Human  and  Comparative,  and 
your  book  on  the  Microscope,  that  you  are  a  kind  of  classic 
to  me  ;  and  to  see  my  name  in  a  treatise  of  yours  is  like  re- 
ceiving an  unexpected  honorary  degree  from  some  institution 
of  note  and  name.  I  have  always  been  greatly  interested  in 
the  subject  of  unconscious  cerebration,  to  use  the  expression 
which  you,  I  think,  first  employed  long  ago  in  your  Physiology. 
Every  man  is  more  or  less  a  metaphysician,  and  I  think  we  often 
feel,  in  reading  the  acutest  or  even  the  profoundest  analysis  of 
mental  actions,  that  we  too  are  experts,  and  hold  in  transparent 
solution  the  same  ideas  to  which  another  has  given  the  crystal- 
line solidity  and  definiteness  of  language.  In  this  way  I  have 
often  felt  when  reading  your  own  subtle  and  searching  observa- 
tions, and  very  likely  with  this  feeling  have  borrowed  more  from 
your  suggestions  than  I  was  aware  of  If  I  have  done  so  in  the 
little  book  from  which  you  quote,  or  helped  myself  from  others 
without  giving  them  credit,  you  will,  I  know,  set  it  all  down  to 
unconscious  cerebration  and  automatic  manipulation.  But  as 
we  all  handle  the  same  tools  in  the  same  cerebral  workshop,  it 
is  no  more  wonderful  that  we  should  often  work  after  the  same 
pattern,  than  that  two  gloves  made  in  two  different  countries, 
should  each  have  four  fingers  and  a  thumb. 


'o^ 


Fro7n  the  Rev.  Dr.  Martineau. 

London,  March  9,  1874. 
I  am  much  gratified  by  your  kind  remembrance  of  me  in 
drawing  up  your  list  of  presentations  for  your  "  Mental  Physi- 

*  On  receiving  a  copy  of  the  "  Principles  of  Mental  Physiology,"  in  which 
Dr.  Carpenter  had  quoted  Dr.  Holmes's  "  Mechanism  in  Thought  and  Morals." 


''MENTAL   physiology:'  123 

ology."  I  need  not  say  that  the  original  groundwork  of  the 
volume  has  long  been  familiar  to  me.  Indeed,  I  owe  to  it  a 
large  part  of  my  small  store  of  knowledge  with  regard  to  the 
nervous  system  and  its  fimctions  in  man.  The  new  elements 
in  the  volume  are  most  inviting ;  it  is  impossible  to  cut  open 
the  sheets  without  alighting,  by  merely  indulging  a  cursory 
glance,  on  a  rich  vein  of  instruction  or  suggestion.  To  me, 
also,  it  is  always  a  comfort  when  I  take  up  your  books  to  know 
that  in  surveying  the  belt  of  borderland  between  the  domains 
of  physiology  and  of  psychology,  you  will  treat  the  rights  of 
both  with  due  respect,  and  will  not  turn  a  professed  scientific 
exploration  into  an  expedition  of  aggression  and  conquest.  If 
anything  is  absolutely  and  ultimately  certain,  it  is  that  neither 
of  these  provinces  can  ever  merge  by  annexation  into  the  other ; 
and  that  therefore  the  true  method  of  prosecuting  both  requires 
the  creation  and  observance  of  a  separate  nomenclature  and 
descriptive  vocabulary  for  each.  Yet  among  our  English 
writers  on  these  subjects,  nine  out  of  tea  conceal  their  real 
distinctness,  and  thrust  them  into  artificial  approximation  by 
carrying  over  the  language  of  the  one  into  their  reports  of  the 
phenomena  of  the  other. 

Within  two  years  of  its  publication,  the  "  Mental 
Physiology"  ran  through  four  editions,  and  in  1876  Dr. 
Carpenter  drew  up  a  final  statement  of  his  views  on  the 
limits  of  human  automatism  in  the  shape  of  a  preface  to 
the  fourth  edition,  which  dealt  with  recent  utterances  of 
some  of  his  scientific  friends,  notably  Professor  Huxley 
and  Professor  Clififord.*  The  days  were  still  full  of  eager 
labour,  but  the  longing  for  rest  rose  more  and  more  fre- 
quently in  his  mind.  In  the  spring  of  1875  he  was  greatly 
interested  in  the  project  of  University  Extension,  and  joined 
a  deputation  to  the  Lord  Mayor  on  behalf  of  a  scheme 
"  originated  by  Cambridge,  but  here  taken  up  at  my  in- 
"  stance  in  a  more  comprehensive  spirit.  Our  object  is  to 
"induce  the  City  Companies  to  co-operate  in  a  People's 

•  See  below,  p.  2S4 


124  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

"  College  for  thorough  high-class  teaching."  The  Council 
which  was  formed  to  carry  on  the  work,  represented  the 
three  Universities  of  Cambridge,  Oxford,  and  London,  and 
he  remained  a  member  of  it  till  the  last.  But  the  active 
conduct  of  such  new  enterprises  he  felt  that  he  must  leave 
to  younger  men. 

I  assure  you  (he  wrote  to  his  brother  Russell,  as  the  year 
1875  ran  out)  that  even  when  most  rejoicing  in  the  continuance 
of  my  own  energy,  I  often  long  for  the  time  when  I  may  cease 
to  feel  it  a  duty  to  be  always  doitig  something,  and  may  be  able 
to  rest  on  my  oars  with  an  easy  conscience,  and  let  the  world 
go  on  without  my  participation. 

Partly  under  the  influence  of  this  feeling,  and  partly  for 
the  completion  of  some  investigations  into  the  anatomy 
and  development  of  the  Feather-Star  {Comatula),  he 
obtained  leave  of  absence  from  the  University  for  three 
months  in  the  beginning  of  1876.  When  all  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  winter  courses  of  Gilchrist  lectures  were 
completed,  he  hurried  off  to  Naples  to  carry  on  his  studies 
in  the  great  aquarium  maintained  there  by  international 
scientific  co-operation.  Through  a  long  spell  of  cold  and 
cheerless  weather,  the  southern  city  failed  to  reveal  her 
charms  ;  and  its  sanitary  and  social  conditions  somewhat 
disgusted  him.*  His  interest  rose  high,  however,  over 
Pompeii,  which  he  did  not  visit  till  his  wife  could  join 
him  in  the  spring  ;  and  when  they  passed  to  Rome,  to 
Florence,  to  Bologna,  on  their  way  home,  he  found  so  keen 
a  pleasure  in  great  historic  memories,  and  so  unexpected  a 
susceptibility  to  the  glories  of  classic  and  mediaeval  art,  that 

*  He  used  to  tell  afterwards,  with  much  amusement,  how  when  he  was  one 
day  walking  alone  at  no  great  distance  from  the  town,  a  stalwart  beggar  sud- 
denly came  up  behind  him,  flung  his  arms  over  his  shoulders,  and  snatched 
away  the  contents  of  his  breast-pocket.  The  prize  proved  to  be  no  poclcet- 
booic  with  its  roll  of  notes  inside,  only  a  little  paper-covered  guide,  which  had 
cost  a  lira.  Dr.  Carpenter  walked  on  with  an  amused  pity  for  his  assailant's 
disappointment. 


VISIT   TO  ITALY.  125 

he  regretted  that  he  had  not  snatched  a  few  more  days 
from  the  laboratory  to  bestow  on  the  opportunity  he  might 
never  have  again.  To  see  Italy  once  more  became  one  of 
his  cherished  dreams.  Meanv/hile  the  usual  labours  were 
begun  again  ;  the  University  claimed  him  as  the  spring 
advanced  ;  a  new  phase  of  the  Eozoon  controversy  turned 
up,  in  which  he  gave  a  temporary  triumph  to  "the  Anti- 
Eozoonists  ;"  the  fresh  materials  collected  at  Naples  called 
loudly  for  arrangement ;  and  the  fourth  edition  of  the 
'*  Mental  Physiology  "  only  awaited  the  new  preface. 

My  time  (he  wrote  in  the  middle  of  May)  has  been  much 
taken  up  by  foreigners,  who  have  come  over  to  the  Exhibition 
of  Scientific  Apparatus,  which  seems  to  have  excited  much  more 
attention  abroad  than  here.  The  Queen  came  to  pay  it  a  visit 
on  Saturday  morning,  and  the  Empress  of  Germany.  I  followed 
in  the  train,  and  had  a  general  look  at  what  the  collection  con- 
tains, which  is  very  wonderful  and  interesting,  but  what  time  I 
shall  get  to  examine  even  a  small  part  of  it,  I  cannot  divine. 
Just  now  I  have  to  digest  a  new  alternative  scheme  for  the 
B.Sc.  examination,  and  to  ascertain  the  opinion  of  from  twelve 
to  twenty  people  upon  it,  and  to  go  into  questions  between  the 
University  and  the  Medical  Corporations,  which,  after  every- 
thing had  been  settled,  the  latter  have  reopened.  And  as  to 
home  work,  I  am  only  gradually  preparing  (by  getting  my  things 
into  some  kind  of  order)  for  what  I  shall  take  up  when  my  time 
comes.  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  concentrate  my  thoughts 
sufficiendy  to  write  the  preface  to  my  "  Mental  Physiology." 

At  length  the  time  arrived.  After  twenty-three  years 
of  service,  coinciding  with  the  period  of  the  most  rapid 
development  of  the  University,  Dr.  Carpenter  resigned  the 
office  of  Registrar,  his  retirement  taking  effect  in  the  spring 
of  1879.  Honours  at  home  and  abroad  had  flowed  in  upon 
him  abundantly.  In  187 1,  his  own  University  of  Edinburgh 
had  conferred  on  him  the  degree  of  LL.D.  He  had  more 
than  once  served  as  Vice-President  of  the  Royal  Society. 


126  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

In  1872,  he  had  filled  the  Presidential  chair  of  the  British 
Association  for  the  Advancement  of  Science.  The  next 
year  he  was  made  a  Corresponding  Member  of  the  Institute 
of  France,  the  name  which  was  submitted  as  an  alternative 
to  the  choice  of  the  electors  being  that  of  Charles  Darwin. 
And  Mr.  Disraeli,  soon  after  coming  into  power  in  1874, 
conceiving  that  his  services  to  education  and  science  de- 
served recognition,  recommended  him  to  the  Queen,  without 
political  or  official  prompting,  for  the  order  of  Companion 
of  the  Bath.  To  these  distinctions  the  Senate  of  the  Uni- 
versity had  it  not  in  their  power  to  add  ;  but  they  recorded 
their  sense,  not  only  of  the  ability,  judgment,  and  fidelity 
with  which  he  had  uniformly  discharged  the  duties  of  his 
post,  but  also  of  the  zeal  and  efficiency  with  which  he  had 
on  all  occasions  exerted  himself,  both  within  and  beyond 
the  limits  of  his  official  obligation,  for  the  promotion  of  the 
best  interests  of  the  University  ;  and  they  expressed  their 
conviction  of  the  advantage  conferred  upon  it  by  the 
services  of  a  Registrar  who,  besides  being  an  excellent 
administrator  of  its  affairs,  had  attained,  by  his  scientific 
labours,  a  position  which  gave  him  a  just  weight  and  in- 
fluence over  those  with  whom  he  was  officially  brought 
into  contact.  When  the  next  vacancy  occurred,  his  name 
was  placed  upon  the  list  of  the  Senate,  and  he  continued 
to  take  an  active  share  in  its  deliberations.* 

The  sense  of  occasional  strain  now  passed  out  of  Dr. 
Carpenter's  life  ;  but  his  days  were  no  less  fully  occupied 
than  before.  He  had  more  leisure  to  write,  though  writing 
became  more  irksome,  and  from  the  vantage  ground  of 
experience,  and  detachment  from  professional  interests,  he 
addressed  himself  with  fresh  energy  to  questions  new  and 
old.    He  had  published  two  years  before  a  little  volume  on 

*  His  portrait  was  painted  by  subscription  among  the  graduates,  and  now 
hangs  in  the  Senate-room. 


CHARACTERISTICS,  127 

"  Mesmerism  and  Spiritualism,"  and  had  devoted  a  large 
amount  of  time  and  thought  to  the  investigation  of  "  spiri- 
tualistic" phenomena,  both  at  his  own  house  and  at  the 
houses  of  other  friends,  such  as  Mr.  Robert  Chambers  and 
Mr.  A.   R.  Wallace.     Then  came  vaccination,  vivisection, 
the  germ  theory  of  disease,  on  all  of  which  he  entered  with 
a  certain  eagerness  which  showed  an  unabated  activity  for 
thought,  an  unwearied  zeal  for  what  he  believed  to  be  the 
public  good.     It  was  his  earnestness  for  this  cause  which 
sometimes  lent  a  touch  of   asperity  or  intellectual    scorn 
towards  forms  of  error  (as  he  regarded  them)  which  had 
no    legitimate    ground,   and    might,    in    his   judgment,    be 
noxious  to  physical  or  mental  health.     If  ever  he  yielded 
to   the  temptation   to   speak  ex  cathedra  in  the   name   of 
science — a  habit  which  he  deplored  when  he  observed  it 
in  others — It  was  in  dealing  with  doctrines  and  practices 
which  appeared  to  him  rooted  in  incurable  prepossession, 
and  maintained  against  overwhelming  evidence.     Here  his 
intellectual  tolerance  found  its  limits.     He  was  ardent,  and 
hence    sometimes    unguarded    in    controversy  ;    but    none 
could  enter  into  dispute  with  him,  and  not  feel   that  he 
sought  no  personal  triumph,  but  only  desired  the  establish- 
ment of  the  truth.     This  quality  of  his  mind  revealed  itself 
especially  In  the  essays  on  religious  philosophy,  which  he 
contributed  to  the  Modern  Review  in  the  years  1880  and 
onwards.     They  bear  the  impress  of  a  calm  and  weighty 
judgment,  which   has   faced  all  issues  without  fear  ;  they 
are  the  deliberate  outcome  of  long  and  patient  thought, 
lifted  above  passion  or  prejudice,  and  anxious  only  to  know 
things  as  they  are,  to  "  see  life  steadily,  and  see  it  whole." 

In  August,  1882,  Dr.  Carpenter  was  able  to  realize  a 
long-cherished  wish  to  visit  Canada  and  the  United  States. 
Accompanied  by  his  wife,  he  passed  from  Quebec  through 
Montreal,  the  home  of  the  last  years  of  his  brother,  Dr.  P. 


128  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

P.  Carpenter,  to  Niagara,  stopping  on  his  way  at  the  great 
beds  in  which  Eozoon  had  been  discovered.  The  week's  rest 
which  the  travellers  sought  at  the  Falls  was  diversified  by- 
attendance  at  the  meeting  of  the  American  Pharmaceutical 
Conference,  where  he  was  called  on  for  an  address.  It  was 
a  foretaste  of  what  befell  him  afterwards.  Congresses  and 
conferences  seemed  to  occur  in  town  after  town  as  he 
arrived.  On  one  occasion,  the  discovery  of  his  name  in 
the  hotel  book  suggested  to  some  leading  pastor  an  urgent 
request  that  he  would  give  a  discourse  from  the  pulpit 
of  his  church.  The  most  important  of  these  speeches, 
some  of  which  were  quite  improDiptu,  was  delivered  before 
the  National  Congress  of  Unitarian  and  other  Christian 
Churches,  at  Saratoga,  on  "  The  Influence  of  Science  on 
the  Progress  of  Religious  Thought."  The  autumn  weeks 
were  chiefly  spent  in  Boston,  where  Dr.  Carpenter  poured 
out  the  results  of  many  years  of  labour  and  thought  in  two 
courses  of  lectures,  under  the  auspices  of  the  Lowell  Insti- 
tute, on  the  "  Physical  Conditions  of  the  Deep  Sea,"  and 
on  "  Human  Automatism."  The  boundless  hospitality  of 
his  Boston  friends,  and  the  contact  with  so  many  men 
eminent  in  science  and  literature,  with  whom  he  had  been 
acquainted  only  through  books  and  correspondence,  ren- 
dered this  visit  a  time  of  keen  intellectual  excitement,  and 
filled  him  with  affectionate  memories.*  From  his  earliest 
years  he  had  been  trained  to  interest  in  New  England 
Unitarianism,  and  he  was  familiar  with  the  writings  of  its 
leading  representatives.     When  the  centenary  of  Dr.  Chan- 

*  The  impression  which  he  left  behind  him  was  of  the  same  warm-hearted 
kind.  He  was  ready  to  be  pleased  and  to  give  pleasure  everywhere.  "There, 
"at  my  house,"  afterwards  wrote  his  old  English  friend,  the  Rev.  Brooke 
Herford,  "  the  big-wigs  having  met  him  elsewhere,  I  gathered  a  crowd  of 
"young  students  and  our  poorer  ministers,  to  have  a  chance  to  see  him,  and 
"  they  have  spoken  to  me  many  a  time  since  of  his  beautiful  cordiality,  kind- 
"  ness,  and  simplicity,  as  he  talked  with  them  at  first  individually,  ard  then 
"all  sitting  round  and  holding  a  general  cross-fire  of  questioning." 


VISIT   TO   AMERICA.  129 

ning's  birth  had  been  celebrated  in  London,  in  1880,  he 
had  attended,  at  some  personai  risk,  for  he  was  suffering 
from  a  return  of  the  malady  of  1864,  to  show  his  "  thorough 
"accordance  as  a  man  of  science  with  his  general  views  of 
"human  nature  and  its  responsibilities."  The  great  Civil 
War  had  kindled  in  him  an  absorbing  interest ;  he  had 
followed  its  progress  with  almost  personal  anxiety ;  his 
recollection  of  its  incidents  was  vivid,  and  in  a  long  letter 
written  in  1878,  to  Dr.  O.  W.  Holmes,  who  had  sent  him  a 
copy  of  his  life  of  the  historian  and  diplomatist  Motley,  he 
had  retraced,  in  full  detail,  the  causes  which  had  for  a  while 
somewhat  alienated  his  own  sympathies,  and  those  of 
many  of  his  London  friends,  from  the  side  of  the  North, 
partly  through  what  he  felt  to  be  the  unwise  advocacy  of 
Mr.  Motley,  with  whom  he  was  at  one  time  in  intimate 
intercourse.  For  the  character  of  Lincoln  he  had  conceived 
warm  admiration  ;  he  had  studied  the  details  of  his  career  ; 
in  the  President's  devotion  to  duty,  his  single-mindedness, 
his  strength,  he  found  the  elements  of  nobility  which  he 
regarded  as  of  highest  worth,  and  his  sense  of  humour  was 
especially  gratified  by  the  manifold  stories  which  he 
gathered  of  the  insight  and  pungency  of  Lincoln's  retorts. 
Under  these  influences  his  judgment  of  the  issue  became 
far  tenderer  to  the  North  ;  and  when,  after  his  return  home 
in  December,  he  recalled  some  of  his  impressions,  strongest 
and  deepest  was  his  admiration  for  the  readiness  with  which 
it  had  met  the  call  to  sacrifice. 

To  the  Rev.  R,  L.  Carpenter. 

London,  December  31,  18S2. 

A  very  fine  memorial  of  the  graduates  who  lost  their  lives 

in  the  war  has  been  erected  by  subscription  at  enormous  cost 

[at  Harvard  College,  Cambridge,  Mass.];  including  a  hall   for 

dining,  a  good  deal  in  the  style  of  one  of  the  Oxford  or  Cam- 


I30  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

bridge  College  Halls,  but  much  larger,  and  a  theatre  for  public 
celebrations  (in  which  the  Greek  play  was  performed  not  long 
ago),  with  a  sort  of  transept  between  the  two,  giving  entrance 
to  each,  the  walls  of  which  are  covered  with  memorial  tablets 
containing  the  lists  of  the  graduates  of  the  several  faculties, 
with  a  number  of  appropriate  mottoes.     It  was  the  going  over 
these  lists  and  recognizing  so  many  names  of  the  old  New 
England  families,  that   impressed  me  more  than  anything  else 
with  a  feeling  how  completely  the  war  had  penetrated  every 
circle  of  Northern  society.     O.  W.  Holmes's  son,  who  has  been 
Professor  of  Law  at  Harvard,  and  has  been  just  made  a  judge 
(at  the  age  of  forty),  went  to  the  war  before  he  graduated,  and 
was  wounded  three  times.     Theodore  Lyman,  brother-in-law  of 
Alexander  Agassiz,  whom  I  only  knew  as  a  naturalist  (he  has 
just  brought  out  an  admirable  monograph  in  the  Challenger 
Series),  served  on  the  staff  of  one  of  the  Generals,  and  now 
holds  the  rank  of  Colonel.     He  has  just  been  elected  to  Con- 
gress.      In   every  cemetery  the  graves  of  those  who  fell  are 
specially  distinguished  by  small  flags ;  and  there  are  generally 
little   societies   for   keeping   them  decorated  with   flowers.     I 
asked    Dr.   Morison  what   he   considered   to   have   been   the 
principal  motive  that  impelled  the  Northern  volunteers ;  and 
he  said  without  hesitation   that  it  was  "  country."     The  anti- 
slavery  feeling  doubtless   helped,  but  it  was  not  the   moving 
power.     The  more  I  come  to  know  of  what  they  went  through, 
the  less  I  have  been  surprised  at  their  complaint  of  want  of 
sympathy  on  our  parts,  and  their  interpretation  of  our  coldness 
as  resulting  from  a  desire  for  a  split  that  should  destroy  the 
union  which  they  felt  bound  by  all  the  ties  of  patriotism  to 
uphold.  .  .  . 

A  great  sensation  was  produced  while  we  were  in  Boston 
by  a  paper  read  at  the  Unitarian  Club  by  Dr.  George  Ellis, 
as  to  the  proper  mode  of  now  dealing  with  orthodoxy.  He  ex- 
pressed the  conviction  that  in  the  old  controversies  in  which 
the  discussion  was  upon  the  meaning  of  texts,  both  sides  accept- 
ing the  Scriptural  authority,  the  orthodox  had  the  best  of  it ; 
and  that  the  way  now  to  deal  with  the  questions  at  issue  is 
to  throw  over  this  authority  altogether.     I  think  he  is  quite 


SEVENTY   YEARS    OF  AGE.  131 

right  in  his  conclusion,  though  I  do  not  accord  with  his  pre- 
mises, as  I  do  not  think  that  the  Trinity  or  the  Deity  of  Christ 
find  any  support  in  the  Bible.  But  I  think  that  much  of  the 
Calvmistic  system  and  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment  are 
clearly  formularized,  and  can  only  be  set  aside  by  an  appeal 
to  general  principles  involving  an  abandonment  of  doctrinal 
inspiration. 

On  his  return  to  London,  Dr.  Carpenter  resumed  his 
usual  occupations.  But  it  was  not  without  an  effort.  The 
excitement  of  his  American  tour  had  involved  a  great  drain 
on  his  strength,  though  it  had  given  him  acceptable  change 
of  thought,  and  a  really  invaluable  mental  refreshment. 
Composition  became  more  and  more  difficult ;  he  shrank 
from  taking  pen  in  hand  ;  the  labour  of  revising  the  short- 
hand-writers' reports  of  his  lectures  on  "  Human  Auto- 
matism "  loomed  portentously  before  him  so  that  he  could 
hardly  face  it,  and  in  fact  it  was  never  completed.  He 
felt  age  creeping  upon  him,  though  he  struggled  against  it. 
When  the  seventieth  birthday  came  round  in  the  autumn 
of  1883,  he  wrote  to  his  brother  Russell : — 

It  was  very  pleasant  to  me  to  receive  on  Monday  morning 
such  a  chorus  of  affectionate  greetings  on  the  attainment  of  my 
three  score  and  ten  years.  Your  remark  about  David's  lamen- 
tation having  special  reference  to  the  want  of  spectacles  and 
dentistry  was  very  apposite,  these  being  now  great  aids  in 
making  life  worth  living.  But  I  suppose  that  there  were  no 
small-print  books  or  newspapers  in  those  days  that  now 
specially  need  the  artificial  help.  I  wonder  whether  David  was 
subject  to  rheumatism  ;  he  ought  not  to  have  been,  in  the  dry, 
warm  climate  of  Palestine  ;  but  it  is  this  that  just  now  makes 
me  most  uneasy  respecting  my  future,  as  the  damp  weather 
we  are  at  present  experiencing  has  made  me  more  painluUy 
conscious  of  creaking  joints. 

Yet  no  one  who  witnessed  his  burst  of  energy  the  next 
spring  would  have  thought  his  strength  declining.     On  the 


132  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

4th  of  April,  1884,  he  records  that  he  has  been  "on  circuit" 
the  previous  week,  lecturing  for  the  Gilchrist  Trust  at 
Gloucester,  Stafiford,  Northampton,  Peterborough,  and 
York  !  In  the  next  week  he  is  to  discourse  to  the  Micro- 
scopical Society,  and  at  the  approaching  Easter  to  attend 
the  Ter-centenary  festival  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh, 
as  representative  of  the  University  of  London.  Degrees 
were  to  be  conferred  in  the  metropolis  of  Knox's  Calvinism 
on  Dr.  Martineau  and  M.  Renan.  "Verily,"  said  Dr. 
Carpenter,  recalling  his  earlier  experiences,  "  tempora 
nmtantnry  Nor  did  this  complete  the  list  of  his  engage- 
ments. "  On  the  following  week  I  am  to  go  down  to 
"  Plymouth  to  help  to  launch  a  local  Fisheries  Exhibition 
**  they  are  getting  up  there.  Our  zoological  station  is  as 
"  yet  in  niibibiis."  Ever  since  his  visit  to  Naples,  Dr. 
Carpenter  had  been  impressed  with  the  desirability  of  pro- 
moting marine  zoological  research  at  home,  and  he  had 
made  proposals  for  the  thorough  exploration  and  study  of 
Milford  Haven.  This  plan  was  not  adopted.  But  a 
Marine  Biological  Association  was  formed,  of  which  he 
became  vice-president,  and  this  has  since  carried  out,  by 
means  of  its  laboratory  on  Plymouth  Sound,  a  design 
traceable  to  his  own  suggestion.  It  was  the  last  public 
movement  which  he  helped  to  initiate  and  guide. 

In  the  same  spring  he  presented  to  the  Royal  Society 
a  short  paper  on  the  Nervous  System  of  the  Crinoidea. 
Here  he  summarized  the  evidence  in  favour  of  his  views, 
which  had  been  made  known  since  his  second  statement  of 
them  in  1876,  partly  by  the  researches  of  one  of  his  sons, 
and  partly  by  those  of  other  naturalists  in  England,  France, 
and  Germany.  This  was  his  last  communication  on  a 
scientific  subject  to  a  learned'  society.  Eighteen  months 
later,  but  a  few  weeks  after  his  death,  a  text-book  of 
zoology  was  published  by  his  former  chief  opponent  in 


LAST   YEARS  133 

Germany,  in  which  his  views  were  unreservedly  adopted  ; 
and  they  are  now  taught  in  every  zoological  laboratory, 
though  their  importance  as  regards  the  general  evolution 
of  the  Echinoderm  type  is  not  yet  fully  recognized. 

Thus,  his  interests  were  still  keen  and  clear ;  and 
though  the  times  were  long  past  when  he  could  punctually 
turn  out  the  same  amount  of  "  copy  "  day  after  day  with 
the  utmost  precision,  and  he  would  sit  for  a  whole  morning 
pen  in  hand  gazing  at  the  paper,  unable  to  put  down  a 
word,  every  now  and  then  some  public  or  private  event 
roused  the  old  force.  In  the  summer  of  1884  he  had 
given  an  address  to  a  meeting  of  Unitarian  ministers  on 
the  "  Relation  of  the  Argument  from  Design  in  the  Organic 
World  to  the  Doctrine  of  Evolution,"  and  this  was  (with 
some  difficulty)  enlarged  from  the  reporter's  notes,  and 
published  in  the  October  number  of  the  Modern  Review* 
It  was  the  final  utterance  of  his  reasoned  faith.  A  few 
weeks  later  he  shared  the  universal  regret  at  the  death  of 
Mr.  Fawcett,  as  well  as  the  universal  curiosity  and  ex- 
pectation as  to  the  probable  attitude  of  the  Opposition  and 
the  House  of  Lords  on  the  Franchise  and  Redistribution 
Bills.  References  to  politics  were  very  rare  in  his  corre- 
spondence, though  his  conversation  often  dealt  largely 
with  them.  The  following  letter  contains  a  characteristic 
illustration  from  Bristol  memories  : — 

To  the  Rev.  R.  L.  Carpenter. 

London,  November  9,  1S84. 
Although  I  did  not  often  come  across  him  (Mr.  Fawcett), 
we  were  very  good  friends  when  we  met ;  and  I  greatly  ad- 
mired the  pluck  with  which  he  had  made  so  good  a  position 
in  the  House,  notwithstanding  his  bUndness.  My  own  impres- 
sion, indeed,  is  that  his  accident  was  really  the  making  of  him, 

*  See  below,  p.  409. 


134  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

by  giving  him  a  power  of  concentrating  his  energies  so  as  to 
overcome  the  obstacles  his  bUndness  created.  I  shall  always 
have  a  pleasant  recollection  of  him  for  the  kindly  way  in  which 
he  moved  a  vote  of  thanks  to  me  as  President  of  the  British 
Association  at  the  closing  meeting  at  Brighton,  for  which  he 
was  then  M.P.  He  said  that  he  was  quite  unable  to  judge  for 
himself  what  I  had  done  for  science,  but  that  all  he  had  heard 
of  me  led  him  to  recognize  the  love  of  truth  as  the  guiding 
motive  of  my  scientific  career.* 

The  next  week  will,  I  suppose,  show  whether  the  Opposi- 
tion are  going  to  be  wise  in  time,  or  to  evoke  the  hostility  of 
the  mass  of  the  people,  of  which  they  have  had  the  fullest 
warning.  If  they  adopt  the  suggestions  of  Gladstone  and  Lord 
Hartington,  and  put  forth  their  own  programme  of  a  redistribu- 
tion scheme,  which  the  Government  will  most  gladly  take  into 
consideration,  so  as  to  make  (as  Gladstone  said)  the  Bill  the 
work  of  the  House,  they  will  have  a  much  better  case  on  which 
to  go  before  the  country  at  the  next  election,  than  if  they  per- 
sist in  opposing  the  passage  of  the  Franchise  Bill.  And  I 
cannot  but  hope  that  the  attitude  of  Mr.  Gorst  may  have  a 
sufficient  number  of  imitators  among  the  Peers  to  make  Lord 
Salisbury  doubtful  of  his  majority.  If  they  force  the  country  to 
question  the  right  of  fifty  country  gentlemen — responsible  to 
nobody — to  resist  its  will,  I  think  there  is  no  doubt  what  the 
ultimate  result  will  be.  It  is  rather  curious  that  Lord  Salis- 
bury, who  is  so  anxious  to  preserve  the  minority  vote  for  the 
CoJiifuons,  should  oppose  any  change  in  the  mode  of  electing 
the  Scotch  and  Irish  Peeis,  which  makes  the  majority  the  sole 
electors,  and  gives  no  representation  whatever  to  the  minority, 
which  (as  in  the  election  of  aldermen  by  the  fi}-st  Bristol  Town 
Council)  may  be  numerically  less  by  only  a  single  vote.  I  have 
the  fullest  confidence  that  a  great  result  will  be  gained  in  the 
end,  in  whatsoever  way  it  is  worked  out     But  it  will  be  a  great 

*  Mr.  Fawcett  said  that  lonq;  before  he  had  the  honour  of  Dr.  Carpenter's 
personal  acquaintance,  he  had  always  heard  him  spoken  of  by  scientific  men, 
whose  authority  he  valued  and  whose  opinion  he  could  trust,  as  one  of  the 
most  conscientious,  laborious,  and  single-minded  workers  in  the  great  world  of 
science.  No  one,  he  had  always  been  told,  had  ever  worked  with  a  purer 
desire  to  promote  scientific  truth,  with  less  idea  of  personal  distinction,  than 
Dr.  Carpenter. — Brighton  Daily  News,  August  22,  1872. 


CHARACTERISTICS.  135 

pity  for  the  agitation  to  be  prolonged,   to  the  suspension  of 
other  legislation. 

Dr.  Carpenter's  recollection  of  Mr.  Fawcett's  words 
touched  indeed  the  central  energy  of  his  whole  thought 
and  life.  To  realize  Schiller's  description  of  the  philo- 
sopher, to  love  truth  better  than  his  system,  had  been  his 
constant  endeavour. 

In  the  pursuit  of  truth  (he  wrote  in  a  fragment  found 
among  his  private  memoranda),  the  more  faithfully,  strictly, 
and  perseveringly  we  fix  our  attention  on  the  goal,  not  allowing 
ourselves  to  be  distracted  by  the  temptations  of  self-interest,  or 
by  the  timid  apprehensions  of  those  who  fear  the  risks  more 
than  they  value  the  reward,  the  more  shall  we  find  ourselves 
progressively  emancipated  from  those  unconscious  prejudices 
which  cling  around  us  as  results  of  early  misdirection  and 
erroneous  habits  of  thought,  and  which  are  more  dangerous  to 
our  consistency  than  those  against  which  we  knowingly  put 
ourselves  on  our  guard.  And  so  in  the  path  of  life,  if  we 
begin  by  turning  to  the  right,  and  determinately  keep  straight 
on,  we  find  the  way  become  more  and  more  clear  before  us ; 
the  suggestions  of  a  temporary  expediency  lose  their  force 
when  we  have  formed  the  fixed  habit  of  trying  everything  by 
the  test  of  fundamental  principles ;  the  temptations  which 
arise  out  of  the  lower  parts  of  our  nature  lose  their  hold  upon 
us  in  proportion  as  we  keep  our  attention  fixed  upon  the 
highest  class  of  motives  ;  and  the  determination  to  act  upon 
those  motives  becomes  more  and  more  easy  to  carry  out  with 
every  victory  it  has  already  gained. 

Here  was  his  whole  philosophy  of  conduct  ;  it  guided 
him  alike  in  scientific  and  social  effort,  and  was  the  spring 
of  his  untiring  toil.  What  influences  he  had  felt  most 
stimulating  and  helpful  from  the  personalities  whom  he 
had  known,  may  be  inferred  from  the  concluding  words  of 
a  lecture  on  the  "  Principles  of  the  System  of  Reformatory 
and  Preventive  Discipline  as  worked  out  in  Theory  and 
Practice  by  Mary  Carpenter,"  delivered  before  the  Sunday 


136  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

Lecture  Society,  of  which  he  was  President,  on  November 
4,  1877,  in  the  autumn  following  his  sister's  death. 

The  world  has  been  most  benefited  by  the  labours  of  those 
who  have  had  the  greatest  desire  to  employ  their  powers  for  the 
good  of  others,  the  greatest  knowledge  of  the  best  mode  of 
doing  so,  and  the  greatest  faith  in  the  ultimate  success  of  their 
work.    And  I  wish  no  better  for  myself  than  that  1  should  here- 
after be  remembered  as  one  who  has  endeavoured,  in  however 
humble  a  degree,  to  transmit  to  those  who  may  come  after  me 
the  earnest  love  of  scientific  truth  which  was  the  pre-eminent 
characteristic    of    John    Frederick    Herschel,    the   unswerving 
love  of  what  was  just  and  right  and  kind  which  animated  the 
course  of  George  Grote,  and  the  large-hearted  and  self-sacri- 
ficing love  of  her  fellow-creatures  which  gave   to  Mary  Car- 
penter a  foremost  place  among  the  philanthropists  of  this  or 
any  other  time. 
To  his  friends,  also,  as  to  the  public  men  who  only  saw 
him    at  a  distance,  singleness   of  aim    seemed    the    most 
striking  quality  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  life.     This  had,  indeed, 
its  severe  and  unsympathetic  side  to  some  who  approached 
him  only  for  the  first  time,  especially  in  any  post  of  official 
duty.     He  was  charged  to  carry  out  certain  rules,  and  they 
must  be  fulfilled,  whatever  might  be  the  cost  to  personal 
convenience    or  pride.     His  life-long  habit   of   acting   on 
fixed    principles    made    him    impatient    of    anything   that 
seemed  to  contravene   them  ;    the  strenuous  effort  of  his 
earlier  years  had  partly  deprived  him  of  the  elasticity  of 
nature  which  renders  it  easy  for  others  to  enter  into  fresh 
relations  ;  and  he  had  a  difficulty  in  spontaneously  adapt- 
ing himself  to  varieties  of  character  not  formed  after  his 
own  model.       As  his  circle  of  friendships  widened,  how- 
ever, and  a  larger  and  more  diverse  experience  gave  him  a 
fuller    insight    into  the  perplexities  of  life,  his  judgments 
towards  his  closing  years  became  far  gentler.     He  was  not, 
indeed,  without  his  share  of  the  combative  impulse  ;  but 


CHARACTERISTICS.  137 

even  when  he  headed  an  assault  upon  what  seemed  to  him 
injurious  error,  or  absolute  folly,  or  defended  on  his  own 
side  some  cherished  position,  he  sought  to  distinguish 
between  the  opinions  which  he  condemned  and  the  per- 
sons who  held  them,  for  whom  he  even  sometimes  came 
to  feel  an  unexpected  tenderness.  In  his  pursuit  of  truth 
there  were  no  reserves  ;  honesty  of  purpose  was  stamped 
upon  all  he  wrote.  Thoroughness  marked  all  his  perform- 
ance, whether  in  scientific  investigation,  in  the  discharge 
of  official  duty,  or  the  administration  of  private  or  public 
trusts  ;  he  could  be  content  with  nothing  but  his  best, 
and  he  could  endure  no  slovenliness  in  others  born  of 
weakness  or  indolence.  This  very  thoroughness  made 
him  often  slow  in  forming  opinions,  till  all  available  evi- 
dence should  be  before  him  ;  and  though  his  convictions 
when  once  formed  were  exceedingly  tenacious,  he  strove 
earnestly  to  guard  himself  against  allowing  them  to  be- 
come mere  prejudices,  and  he  was  not  betrayed  into 
quitting  the  attitude  of  the  teacher,  with  its  open  outlook 
towards  all  possibilities,  for  that  of  the  partisan.  Hence  in 
his  treatment  of  religious  questions  he  could  reason  with- 
out dogmatism.  There  was  in  his  mind  what  one  of  his 
friends  described  as  an  "  abiding  and  apparently  inde- 
"  structible  instinct  of  reverence  ;"  but  it  was  united  with 
perfect  intellectual  freedom.  This  quality  commanded  the 
sympathy  of  many  who  had  become  more  or  less  detached 
from  the  traditional  forms  of  belief ;  they  read  what  he 
wrote  on  the  deeper  issues  of  faith  "  without  the  kind  of 
"mental  protest  which  is  elicited  both  by  orthodox  denun- 
"ciations  of  scientific  agnosticism,  and  not  less  so  by  the 
"pert  and  aggressive  attitude  of  many  modern  agnostics." 
At  the  same  time  there  was  nothing  visionary  about 
Dr.  Carpenter's  modes  of  thought.  Of  the  two  great  seers 
with  whom  he  was  acquainted,  he  probably  derived  from 


138  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

Carlyle  the  more  vivid  intellectual  stimulus  ;  but  Emerson 
had  for  him  by  far  the  stronger  moral  charm,  and  awakened 
in  him  the  more  enthusiastic  admiration.  When  he 
visited  Concord,  he  eagerly  gathered  up  the  memories 
of  the  beauty  and  nobility  of  Emerson's  life,  though  he 
had  often  failed  to  follow  him  with  assent  or  even  with 
comprehension  along  the  dizzy  heights  of  his  discourse. 
Emerson's  flashing  glances  into  the  manifold  relations  of 
things  were,  indeed,  as  different  as  possible  from  the  slow 
and  cautious  steps  with  which  Dr.  Carpenter  felt  his  way 
through  facts  to  principles.  He  would  go  no  further  than 
the  most  careful  reasoning  allowed  him  ;  but  he  admitted 
into  the  elements  on  which  his  reasoning  was  to  be  based 
certain  primary  powers,  affections,  and  sentiments,  which 
he  found  in  his  own  heart,  and  saw  in  various  forms  in  the 
consciousness  of  the  race.  Nor  was  he  disturbed  in  his 
estimate  of  their  value,  because  it  might  be  possible  to 
show  their  origin  and  trace  the  history  of  their  growth. 
The  obligations  of  conscience  were  not,  in  his  view, 
stripped  of  their  Divine  authority,  even  though  the  con- 
tents of  its  specific  decisions  depended  on  the  long  evolu- 
tion of  experience.  So  he  seemed  to  many  to  balance  and 
harmonize  different  aspects  of  scientific,  moral,  and  religious 
truth  with  a  well-tempered  wisdom  ;  giving  to  reason  its 
fullest  play  over  the  widest  range  of  outward  and  inward 
facts,  he  rose  to  be  a  kind  of  sage  in  the  intellectual  and 
theological  world  around  him.  Teachers  and  students, 
men  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  men  of  the  world  and 
affairs,  discerned  in  him  an  unusual  breadth  of  sympathy, 
and  a  rare  combination  of  gifts,  each  of  which  was  culti- 
vated to  its  fullest  capacity.  The  simplicity  of  his  aims 
flowed  forth  from  a  rich  and  sound  humanity. 

"  He   was  one  of  my  oldest  friends,"  said  Sir  James 
Paget," after  his  death,  "  a  friend  of  more  than  forty  years  ; 


CHARACTERISTICS.  139 

"  and  in  all  that  time  I  could  think  of  him  as  a  model  of 
"  srentleness  and  fairness,  and  of  unbounded  desire  for  the 
"attainment  and  diffusion  of  knowledge."  This  sense  of 
justice  was  stamped  on  all  his  intellectual  work.  He 
sought  anxiously  to  manifest  it  towards  others  ;  he  desired 
it  to  be  displayed  towards  himself.  It  made  him  eager 
to  recognize  to  the  full  the  value  of  the  investigations  of 
fellow-labourers,  and  he  expected  a  similar  recognition  of 
his  own. 

I  gratefully  remember  (wrote  one  of  his  old  friends  to  him 
in  1883)  that  you  were  among  the  earliest  to  welcome  me 
among  the  workers  in  biology,  and  to  encourage  me  by  com- 
mendation both  privately  and  publicly  expressed. 

Of  his  generous  kindness  to  young  men,  and  his  faithfulness 
as  a  friend  (Mr.  Huxley  says),  I  can  speak  from  knowledge.  I 
was  a  very  young  man,  almost  friendless  in  the  scientific  world, 
when  I  returned  to  England  in  the  end  of  1850.  I  made  Dr. 
Carpenter's  acquaintance  early  in  1851,  and  it  so  happened 
that  I  was  able  to  give  him  some  odds  and  ends  of  information, 
which  he  found  useful  in  bringing  out  the  third  edition  of  the 
"  Principles  of  Comparative  Physiology."  In  the  preface,  Dr. 
Carpenter  has  referred  to  my  small  services  in  a  manner  which 
I  thought  then,  and  think  now,  disproportionate  to  my  deserts ; 
and,  from  that  time  until  his  lamented  death,  he  remained  a 
friend  who  did  me  many  a  good  turn,  and  upon  whose  stead- 
fastness I  could  always  rely.  More  than  once  I  had  the  mis 
fortune  to  come  into  scientific  conflict  with  him  ;  and  on  one 
occasion,  certainly,  I  was  in  the  right.  Yet  not  even  that 
provocation  disturbed  his  unvarying  goodness. 

Some  other  aspects  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  work  are  de- 
scribed in  the  following  communication  from  Mr.  Thiselton- 
Dyer,  F.R.S.* 

In  later  years,  when  it  was  my  privilege  to  be  counted  by 
Dr.  Carpenter  among  his  personal  friends,  I  saw,  with  delight, 

*  See  a  quotation  previously  given,  p.  68. 
7 


140  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

another  side  of  his  scientific  character.  Up  to  the  very  end,  his 
intense  interest  in  new  knowledge  might  put  to  the  blush  many 
a  younger  man.  It  seemed  extraordinary  that  it  should  never 
flag.  I  well  remember  his  ardent  excitement  on  the  return  of  the 
Challenge?;  laden  with  the  spoils  of  four  years'  deep-sea  explora- 
tion. It  was  just  the  same  at  the  British  Association  at  South- 
port,  when  he  sat  for  hours  at  a  time  in  the  Biological  section, 
eager  to  hear  the  papers  read  by  the  younger  men,  and 
delighted,  when  called  upon,  to  speak  words  of  approval  and 
encouragement. 

And  not  merely  had  he  this  vast  appetite  for  knowledge, 
but  it  was  an  appetite  governed  by  perfect  mastery.  He 
remembered  all  about  everything  which  he  had  ever  learnt.  It 
was  a  hazardous  matter,  therefore,  to  differ  with  him  on  a  point 
of  historical  detail,  and  on  the  one  occasion  when  I  ever  found 
myself  in  that  predicament,  I  executed  a  very  speedy  strategic 
retreat.  I  append  a  copy  of  a  letter  which  he  wrote  me  on  that 
occasion.  It  is  in  its  way  an  interesting  chapter  of  scientific 
history,  and  illustrates  in  a  manner  which  is  still  marvellous  to 
me  in  re-reading  it,  the  perfect  discipline  in  which  he  preserved 
the  detailed  knowledge  stored  up  in  his  mind.  The  letter  is  the 
more  important  as  it  states,  and  I  think  with  perfect  accuracy, 
what  he  claimed  to  have  effected  in  some  points  of  botanical 
theory.* 

*  To  W.  T.  Thiselton-Dyer,  Esq. 

56,  Regent's  Park  Road,  July  7,  1875. 

Dear  Mr.  Thiselton-Dyer. — Glancing  over  your  article  in  the  new  number 
of  the  Microscopical  Journal  I  see  with  some  surprise  that  you  credit  De 
Bary  with  being  the  first  to  point  out  that  conjugation  is  the  primitive  phase 
of  sexual  reproduction.  For  this  was  distinctly  indicated  by  Thwaites  in  his 
paper  in  the  A7inals  for  March,  1848  ;  and  I  myself  more  fully  developed  this 
view  in  the  British  and  Foreif^n  Medico- Chiriwgical  Review  for  October,  1848, 
pp.  370,  371,  and  October,  1849,  pp.  341-347,  also  p.  437,  where  I  bring  into 
contrast  ihe  subdivision  of  cells  as  the  type  oi  growth,  and  ^'' the  mixture  or 
"  reunion  of  the  contents  of  two  cells,''''  as  the  type  o{  gcjieration. 

This,  again,  was  explicitly  set  forth  in  my  "General  and  Comparative 
Physiology,"  3rd  edition,  1851,  p.  881. 

The  whole  subject  was  at  that  date  in  a  state  of  complete  muddle  ;  and  I 
think  I  could  easily  show  that  I  was  one  of  the  first  to  indicate  the  mode  in 
which  the  clearing-up  would  take  place.  In  fact,  I  do  not  see  that  any  essential 
correction  has  been  made  in  the  views  I  expressed  in  pp.  346,  347  of  the 
RevircV  oi  Oclohtx,  1849,  which  no  other  vegetable  physiologist,  so  far  as  I 
know,  had  then  reached,  Thwaites  having  most  nearly  approached  them. 


CHARACTERISTICS.  141 

I  feel  that  there  is  perfect  justice  in  the  complaint  he  makes 
in  the  conclusion  of  the  letter.  The  position  is  pathetic,  but 
inevitable,  and  can  only  be  redressed,  if  at  all,  by  the  testimony 
of  men  like  myself,  who  do  actually,  in  some  degree,  apprehend 
what  the  position  of  a  man  like  Dr.  Carpenter  really  has  been 
in  scientific  history,  and  have  the  opportunity  of  stating  it. 

Dr.  Carpenter,  in  (act,  was  a  member  of  a  group  of  men  who 
lived  through  a  half-century  of  biological  discovery,  the  like  of 
which,  from  the  nature  of  things,  can  never  be  repeated.  The 
rapid  development  of  the  use  of  the  microscope  revealed  a  pro- 
fusion of  cardinal  facts  in  biology  in  a  comparatively  short  time. 
The  actual  quantity  of  biological  investigation  will,  year  by  year, 
no  doubt,  progressively  increase.  But  the  veil  of  ignorance  can 
never  again  be  lifted  in  the  same  interval  from  such  an  aggre- 
gation of  fundamental  additions  to  knowledge,  for  the  simple 
reason  that  science  can  never  again  be  occupied,  as  it  was  then, 
at  one  and  the  same  moment  with  the  fundamental  facts  of  every 
branch  of  biological  investigation.  It  was  in  this  exciting 
atmospliere  that  Dr.  Carpenter  passed  the  early  part  of  his  life. 
The  facts  of  the  life-history  of  a  fern  are  taught  in  every  class 
of  elementary  biology  in  the  three  kingdoms.  Yet  I  remember 
Dr.  Carpenter  telling  me  how  he  one  day  met  a  friend  in  the 
street  who  asked  him  to  go  to  the  lodgings    (somewhere   in 

Owen's  book  on  "  Parthenogenesis  "  shows  what  a  confusion  he  was  in  ;  as 
Steenstrup's  "Alternation  of  Generations,"  and  Edward  Forbes's  "Naked- 
Eyed  Medusa  "  had  shown  in  regard  to  the  reproduction  of  animals.  In  the 
first  volume  of  the  Review  (then  edited  by  me)  I  had  shown  that  the  so-called 
"  alternation  "  is  really  the  btiddtJts;-  oi  generative  zooids  from  the  nutritive 
zooid  ;  and  this,  though  contested  at  the  time  by  Edward  Forbes  and  Owen,  is 
now  universally  recognized.  At  the  Oxford  meeting  of  the  British  Association, 
in  1847,  at  which  I  advanced  this  heresy,  I  was  pooh-poohed  ;  and  at  the 
Council  of  the  Ray  Society,  at  which  I  advocated  the  reproduction  of  Suminski's 
book  on  the  "Ferns,"  I  was  assured  that  the  close  resemblance  of  the 
Antherozoids  to  Spermatozoa  was  quite  sufficient  proof  that  they  could  have 
nothing  to  do  with  vegetable  reproduction. 

I  do  not  think  that  the  men  of  the  present  generation,  who  have  been 
brought  up  in  the  light,  quite  apprehend  (in  this  as  in  other  matters)  the  utter 
darkness  in  which  we  were  then  groping,  or  fully  recognize  the  deserts  of  those 
who  helped  them  to  what  they  now  enjoy. 

I  am  not  given  to  reclamations,  and  should  not  have  troubled  you  with  this 
on  my  own  account  ;  but  Thvvaites  having  lieen  a  special  "child  "  of  mine  (as 
he  always  avowed),  I  do  not  like  that  //c"  should  not  get  full  credit  for  his  work, 

Yours  faithfully, 

WiLUAM  B.  Carpenter. 


142  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

Bloomsbury)  of  a  Pole  who  had  come  to  London,  and  who  had 
made  a  remarkable  discovery  about  the  reproduction  of  ferns. 
This  was  Suminski,  whose  research  holds  an  ever-memorable 
place  in  the  history  of  botanical  discovery.  The  elementary 
facts  of  biology  seem  a  somewhat  hackneyed  drama  to  us  now. 
But  Dr.  Carpenter  had,  as  it  were,  seen  the  whole  mise  en  schie. 
The  entire  story  was  fresher  to  him  than  it  could  be  to  us, 
paradox  as  this  may  seem.  But  the  new  knowledge  of  his  later 
days  was  equally  absorbing  to  him.  It  often  seemed  to  me 
amazing  to  reflect  that  here  was  a  man  who  had  practically  seen 
the  whole  thing  grow  up,  and  yet  was  as  enthusiastic  about  the 
future  development  of  biological  science  as  its  youngest  votary. 
Certainly,  as  I  have  said,  the  progress  of  discovery  which 
Dr.  Carpenter  saw,  was  an  exciting  one,  and  it  was  a  fortunate 
thing  that  the  task  fell  to  him  to  be  in  some  sort  its  historian, 
or,  at  any  rate,  expositor.  For,  as  he  in  effect  tells  us,  he  at  least 
never  lost  his  head  about  it.  The  great  work  of  his  life  was, 
after  all,  that  he  gathered  up  the  new  knowledge,  digested  it  and 
put  it  before  the  world  in  a  coherent  and  logical  form.  Stated 
in  this  way,  the  task  accomplished  may  not  seem  much.  In 
effect  it  was  of  the  deepest  importance.  In  my  judgment  he  laid 
the  foundations  of  that  breadth  and  comprehensiveness  of  the 
English  biological  school,  which  will,  I  hope,  be  its  lasting  heri- 
tage. In  some  ways  his  method  of  orderly  exposition  reminds 
me  of  the  logical  lucidity  of  the  best  French  work  of  the  same 
kind.  But  in  grip,  depth,  and  even  a  sort  of  fervour,  I  venture 
to  think  that  its  good  qualities  were  peculiarly  English. 

In  full  accord  with  the  single-mindedness  of  Dr. 
Carpenter's  scientific  character  was  the  simplicity  of  his 
personal  and  home  life.  A  certain  frugality  of  habit, 
the  fruit  of  Puritan  ancestry  and  early  struggle,  marked 
him  almost  to  the  last ;  but  it  imposed  no  restraints  on 
his  domestic  intercourse.  There  all  the  wealth  of  his 
afTection  manifested  itself  in  his  never-ceasing  solicitude 
for  the  welfare  of  his  sons,  and  the  strength  of  his  prin- 
ciples in  the  patience  with  which  he  took  up  the  family 
burdens  that  sometimes  fell  upon  him.     In  his  later  years 


CHARACTERISTICS.  143 

he  delighted  to  gather  his  grandchildren  about  him  ;  the 
playfulness  which  had  been  repressed  under  the  strain 
of  early  days,  found  vent ;  and  the  ways  and  wants  of  an 
infant  went  straight  to  his  heart.  On  one  of  his  Scotch 
rambles,  in  the  autumn  of  1878,  he  wrote  to  his  wife 
(of  whose  travelling  companionship  he  was  that  season 
deprived)  from  the  Bridge  of  Allan  : — 

Yesterday,  after  a  morning  shower,  the  day  was  very  bright 
and  beautiful,  and  I  greatly  enjoyed  the  journey,  not  the  less 
for  there  being  in  the  carriage  a  fifteen-months- old  baby,  the 
brightest,  most  good-tempered,  and  one  of  the  prettiest  I  ever 
saw.  Though  the  journey  was  more  than  six  hours,  she  did 
nothing  but  laugh,  sing,  and  play  the  whole  time,  except  when 
she  was  sucking  her  bottle,  and  made  great  friends  with  me.  I 
also  amused  myself  with  watching  my  aneroid,  which  went  down 
an  inch  and  a  quarter  in  going  over  the  highest  watershed,  that 
above  Killiecrankie,  and  then  rose  visibly  as  we  descended  the 
steep  incline. 

The  sympathy  which  he  felt  for  children  readily  ex- 
tended itself  also  to  animals.  The  proximity  of  his  house 
to  the  Zoological  Gardens  made  him  a  frequent  visitor  on 
Sunday  afternoons.  There  he  was  often  to  be  found  in  the 
monkey-house,  especially  in  the  private  room  of  the  first 
chimpanzee,  in  whom  he  took  a  lively  interest.  He  was 
always  pleased  to  relate  its  educational  progress,  and  would 
constantly  take  friends  to  see  a  display  of  its  accomplish- 
ments. This  grew  almost  into  the  pride  of  ownership  ;  and 
when  the  poor  animal  succumbed  under  its  second  teething, 
he  genuinely  regretted  its  decease. 

No  less  marked  was  the  force  of  his  feeling  at  the  other 
end  of  the  scale.  In  all  that  related  to  the  conduct  and 
character  of  those  with  whom  he  was  most  nearly  connected, 
or  even  of  those  with  whom  he  was  brought  only  into 
official  relations,  his  sensitiveness  was  extreme.  Anything 
that  seemed  like  moral  wrong  caused  him  the  most  stinging 


144  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

pain  ;  and  to  the  imputations  which  he  had  occasionally 
to  meet  in  controversy  he  was  acutely  susceptible.  Again 
and  again  he  would  occupy  the  hours  of  a  sleepless  night 
by  writing  letters,  which  the  calmer  judgment  of  the  morn- 
ing (sometimes  under  the  influence  of  his  wife)  withheld  ; 
the  energy  of  protest  had  expended  itself,  and  reason  sug- 
gested the  modifying  considerations  which  agitated  sensi- 
bility had  ignored.  The  same  warmth  manifested  itself  in 
his  friendships,  and  prompted  continual  acts  of  kindness, 
which  sometimes  surprised  the  receiver,  until  he  learned 
that  he  might  rely  on  his  faithfulness  with  implicit  trust 
The  inevitable  severance  of  old  family  ties,  especially  the 
death  of  his  brother  Philip  and  his  sister  Mary  within  a  few 
weeks  of  each  other,  in  the  summer  of  1 877,  deeply  affected 
him  ;  and  in  the  loss  of  friends  whom  he  revered  or  loved, 
like  Mr.  Grote  and  Sir  William  Siemens,  he  felt  that  some- 
thing passed  out  of  his  life  beyond  recall.  It  was  with  no 
less  vigour  of  heart  that  he  joined  in  public  worship.  He 
well  understood  the  strain  involved  in  the  preacher's  office : 
"  My  work,"  he  said  once,  "  is  for  the  most  part  merely  in- 
"tellectual ;  but  when  I  do  anything  that  deeply  interests 
*'  my  feelings,  I  find  how  much  it  takes  out  of  me."  The 
more  the  preacher  was  himself  touched  by  what  he  was 
saying,  the  more  sure  was  he  of  Dr.  Carpenter's  sympathy, 
and  sometimes  he  would  utter  that  sympathy  with  earnest 
emphasis.  In  music,  above  all  other  forms  of  art,  he  found 
for  such  modes  of  emotion  the  fullest  expression  ;  yet  his 
favourite  passages  in  the  masses  of  Haydn  and  Mozart, 
the  oratorios  of  Handel,  Mendelssohn,  and  Spohr,  or  the 
symphonies  of  Beethoven,  were  hardly  dearer  to  him  than 
some  of  the  simplest  strains  of  congregational  psalmody, 
associated  as  they  were  with  the  memories  of  a  life.* 

*  He  had  himself  compiled  a  book  of  tunes,  for  the  use  of  the  Rosslyn 
Hill  congregation  ;  it  contained  several  compositions  of  his  own. 


CHARACTERISTICS.  145 

This  readiness  of  sympathy,  combined  with  his  vast 
range  of  knowledge,  gave  a  special  geniality  and  charm  to 
his  companionship,  and  enabled  him  as  a  teacher  the  better 
to  enter  into  the  difficulties  of  his  pupils.  Looking  back 
on  the  precious  half-hour  before  breakfast,  which  he  always 
devoted,  even  in  his  busiest  days,  to  his  sons'  lessons,  they 
could  recall  the  evident  interest  which  he  took  in  their 
Latin  and  Greek,  their  Algebra  and  Geometry,  for  the  sake 
of  the  studies  and  the  problems  themselves.  He  seemed  as 
much  at  home  in  them  as  the  masters  who  gave  their  lives 
to  them  ;  and  the  lad  to  whom  it  appeared  only  natural 
that  a  grown-up  person  should  deal  easily  with  a  school- 
boy's work,  found  reason  afterwards  to  marvel  that  the 
mind,  absorbed  in  other  pursuits,  could  so  readily  unlock 
the  secrets  of  a  different  lore.  He  had  the  same  intel- 
lectual curiosity  in  manufactures,  inventions,  machinery, 
processes  of  every  sort.  The  newest  scientific  toy,  the 
zoetrope,  the  chameleon  top,  the  radiometer,  was  sure  to 
appear  upon  his  table.  And  his  studies  of  things  were 
always  supplemented  by  the  studies  of  men.  He  read  the 
political  memoirs  of  his  own  time  with  avidity,  and  could 
turn  on  rills  and  streams  of  discourse  on  the.  most  un- 
expected subject.  ,The  conversation  once  alighted,  in  some 
party  chiefly  composed  of  young  men,  on  the  consti- 
tutional history  of  Switzerland  in  the  last  century  ;  he 
was  immediately  ready  with  a  large  store  of  facts,  and 
kept  up  the  talk  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour.  His 
lectures  in  the  same  way  seemed  to  proceed  from  an  in- 
exhaustible source.  "  When  I  look  at  that  man's  head," 
said  a  Bristol  organ-builder,  "  I  cannot  help  wondering  at 
"  the  amount  of  knowledge  it  contains."  He  possessed  a 
power  of  mental  classification,  so  he  once  told  a  friend,  by 
which,  whenever  he  became  acquainted  with  a  new  fact,  it 
arranged  itself  under  its  proper  head,  and  was  there  ready 


146  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

for  reproduction  and  application.  He  was  thus  able  to  do 
mentally  what  most  others  can  only  accomplish  by  an 
elaborate  machinery  of  labelled  papers.  Nor  did  he  con- 
cern himself  only  with  facts.  Like  other  eminent  men  of 
science,  he  was  a  great  novel-reader.  In  hours  of  weari- 
ness he  always  turned  to  his  favourite,  Scott.  Though  he 
could  not  originate  humour,  he  enjoyed  it  greatly  in  others. 
To  Lamb  he  was  drawn  with  a  positive  affection  ;  he  was 
familiar  with  Hood  and  Dickens ;  the  sayings  of  Mrs. 
Poyser  were  sometimes  on  his  lips,  though  he  found  Daniel 
Deronda  "  rather  tough  ; "  and  he  had  a  warm  appreciation 
of  Thackeray,  with  whom,  through  his  kinship  to  Mrs. 
Carpenter,  he  was  brought  into  occasional  contact,  the 
character  he  loved  best  in  all  fiction  being  Colonel 
Newcome. 

These  resources  made  Dr.  Carpenter  a  welcom.e  guest 
among  a  large  circle  of  friends  ;  but  it  was  in  his  own  home 
that  his  personality  was  most  amply  revealed.  There  it 
became  clear  how  large  was  the  circle  of  his  interests.  The 
study  was  equally  open  to  the  tried  scientific  investigator, 
or  the  young  man  in  the  first  flush  of  enthusiasm  over 
some  new  work  ;  there  the  stores  of  his  collections,  accu- 
mulated for  future  memoirs,  some  of  which  were  never 
written,  were  displayed  ;  there  the  bearings  of  one  element 
or  another  of  doubtful  interpretation  were  discussed  ;  there 
his  delight  in  beauty,  whether  in  a  new  form  of  animal  life 
or  in  the  order  and  coherence  of  a  chain  of  reasoning, 
kindled  the  zeal  of  fellow-workers  and  friends.  For  those 
to  whom  the  microscope  had  less  charm,  there  were  remem- 
brances of  travel,  photographs  and  stereographs  gathered 
from  other  lands  ;  politics,  literature,  antiquities,  music,  all 
supplied  in  turn  themes  for  his  eager  and  discursive  talk 
And  he  would  always  take  the  same  pains  (or  even  greater) 
for  the  undistinguished,  as  for  the   brilliant  and  famous 


CHARACTERISTICS.  I47 

He  felt  for  young  men,  especially,  an  almost  fatherly  in- 
terest ;  the  friends  of  his  sons  could  always  rely  on  him 
for  counsel  and  help  ;  for  those  who  were  passing  through 
struedes  such  as  he  had  himself  endured,  he  had  an  un- 
tiring  sympathy ;  whenever  it  was  possible  he  exerted 
himself  to  promote  their  welfare  or  professional  advance- 
ment ;  and  even  if  that  lay  beyond  the  reach  of  any  effort 
of  his,  the  influence  of  his  example  and  encouragement 
proved  a  strength  and  support.  Writing  of  "  that  beautiful 
"  presence,  full  of  benevolence  and  kindly  dignity,  of  intel- 
"  lectual  vivacity  and  moral  earnestness,  of  wisdom  and 
"  love  which  pervaded  the  whole  atmosphere  of  the  house, 
"and  lent  a  charm  to  the  most  trivial  interests  and  a 
"  brightness  to  the  most  serious  employments,"  an  American 
visitor  recalled  her  memories  of  a  brief  stay  in  the  summer 
of  1884:— 

I  think  of  him  in  every  phase  of  that  short  intercourse, 
of  his  friendly  morning  greeting,  of  his  table-talk,  so  easy, 
so  entertaining,  of  the  long  walks  in  the  gardens,  through 
the  park,  down  in  the  city,  of  the  expedition  to  Kew,  of  all 
those  excursions  lighted  up,  illustrated,  by  a  constant  flow 
of  anecdote  or  personal  reminiscences,  poured  out  without 
stint,  without  reserve,  as  freely  as  if  he  were  talking  to  his 
equals,  instead  of  to  insignificant  persons  who  could  give  him 
nothing  in  return.  Especially  I  think  of  the  Sunday  morning 
when  he  and  I  alone  went  to  the  Temple  Church,  and,  finding 
it  closed,  wandered  about  the  gardens,  sat  down  in  the  Fountain 
Court,  and  then  penetrated  through  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields,  into 
the  crowded  ways  by  Drury  Lane,  and  out  again  into  the 
decorous  Strand.  I  wish  I  could  have  made  notes  of  all  his 
talk  that  day,  especially  as  we  sat  half  an  hour  by  the  fountain 
in  the  stillness  of  the  Sunday  morning  and  of  the  ancient  build- 
ings round.  And  most  of  all  I  think  of  him  as  he  sat  on 
Sunday  evenings  playing  the  sweet  old  music  that  he  loved,  his 
face  full  of  light,  and  his  voice  of  sweetness. 
A  similar  impression  was  recorded  after  his  death  by 


hs  memorial  sketch. 

another  pen,  that  of  a  cultivated  Norwegian  scholar,  the 
friend  of  one  of  his  sons. 

Well  do  I  remember  the  kindness  he  showed  me,  the 
obscure  stranger,  when  I  was  privileged  to  be  together  with 
him,  his  noble  face,  his  eager  instructive  talk,  more  interesting 
than  any  I  ever  listened  to,  the  genial  sympathy  and  light  in 
which  he  moved  as  in  his  atmosphere.  You  felt  him  imme- 
diately to  be  not  only  a  great  but  a  good  man.  I  like  to  think 
of  him  as  I  remember  him  one  night  at  Christmas  in  his  house, 
with  his  sons  assembled  round  him  in  the  library,  your  mother 
at  his  side,  giving  out  a  hymn  at  the  organ,  his  fine  face 
upturne  d  in  beaming  gratitude  towards  his  Eternal  Maker. 

Genuineness,  reality,  in  thought,  feeling,  and  conduct, 
these  were  the  things  which  he  asked  from  those  around 
him  ;  these  were  the  standards  of  worth  for  which  he 
cared. 

When  I  preached  a  sermon  in  reference  to  Mr.  Darwin 
(reported  his  friend,  Dr.  Sadler,  shortly  after  his  death).  Dr. 
Carpenter  came  to  me  afterwards  Avith  tears  in  his  eyes,  and 
told  me  of  what  had  been  said  to  him  by  a  leading  scientific 
friend,  to  the  effect  that  great  as  Mr.  Darwin  was  as  a  scientific 
discoverer,  he  was  still  greater  as  a  man.  And  he  spoke  as  if 
he  felt  this  testimony  to  character  to  be  not  only  true,  but  also 
more  to  be  desired  than  any  testimony  to  intellectual  ability 
could  be.  I  think  what  was  said  is  no  less  true  of  himself  than 
it  was  of  Mr.  Darwin.  The  work  of  his  life  was  great  for  its 
quality  and  for  its  extent ;  but  pervading  it  all  one  sees  the 
man  of  highest  moral  principle,  and  of  a  deeply  religious 
nature. 

In  the  spring  of  1885,  Dr.  Carpenter's  strength,  which 
had  for  some  time  been  impaired,  especially  by  repeated 
attacks  of  rheumatism,  seemed  suddenly  to  give  way.  For 
many  weeks  he  remained  in  a  condition  of  physical  and 
mental  torpor  which  made  his  family  apprehend  the  possi- 
bility of  some  obscure  brain-disease.     Change  of  air  and 


CLOSING  DAYS.  149 

scene  failed  at  first  to  restore  him  ;  but  the  vigour  of  his 
constitution  slowly  reasserted  itself ;  and  the  customary 
visit  to  Scotland,  with  the  gentle  stimulus  of  varied  society 
and  the  pleasure  of  meeting  old  friends,  partly  revived 
his  energy.  He  even  insisted  on  attending  the  meeting 
of  the  British  Association  at  Aberdeen,  and  took  some 
share  in  its  labours. 

He  looked  somewhat  ill  (wrote  Professor  W.  C.  Mcintosh, 
of  St.  Andrews,  a  few  weeks  later),  but  his  great  kindness  and 
interest  in  the  proceedings  triumphed  over  physical  weakness, 
so  that  he  was  one  of  the  pillars  and  heads  of  the  meeting.  I 
shall  never  forget  his  generous  action  and  kindly  words  in  pro- 
posing thanks  for  my  address  in  Section  D. 

He  had  especial  satisfaction  in  breaking  his  journey 
home  so  as  to  avail  himself  of  the  hospitality  of  the 
Bishop  of  Ripon.  His  visit  to  the  Palace  happened  to 
coincide  with  an  ordination  ;  he  studied  the  details  of  the 
examination  (in  one  department  of  which  his  own  "  Mental 
Physiology"  was  prescribed),  and  showed  the  same  bright 
and  sympathetic  interest  in  intercourse  with  some  of  the 
clergy  and  candidates  which  had  struck  his  Boston  friends. 
He  had  always  noted  with  care  the  signs  of  the  growth  of 
Liberal  opinions  both  within  and  without  the  Established 
Church.  He  had  gladly  embraced  occasional  opportunities 
of  addressing  the  London  clergy  at  Sion  College  on  sub- 
jects such  as  prayer,  or  evolution,  connected  with  the 
theory  and  practice  of  religion.  He  was  accordingly  quite 
willing  to  accept  an  invitation  from  Canon  Fremantlc  to 
read  a  paper  before  the  Christian  Conference  at  its 
November  meeting,  on  the  subject  of  Miracles.  The  sug- 
gestion harmonized  with  the  direction  which  his  own 
thoughts  had  been  recently  taking.  Biblical  study  had 
never  lost  its  charm  for  him.  But  a  short  time  before 
he  had  read  through  Dr.  A,  B.  Davidson's  Commentary 


I50  MEMORIAL   SKETCH. 

on  Job ;  and  during  his  Scotch  sojourn  he  had  devoted 
much  attention  to  Dr.  Temple's  Bampton  Lecture.  So, 
when  once  more  at  home,  he  took  up  some  of  his  former 
occupations.  He  attended  a  few  meetings,  and  when 
questions  of  difficulty  arose,  his  judgment  showed  its  wonted 
clearness,  and  was  felt  to  have  lost  none  of  its  grave 
wisdom.  On  the  7th  of  November,  he  met  a  number  of 
old  friends  at  the  house  of  Mr.  George  Busk,  where  the 
animated  talk  of  a  group  including  his  host,  Mr.  Huxley, 
Dr.  AUman,  and  himself,  made  the  party  peculiarly  memo- 
rable. The  next  day  he  dined  after  morning  chapel  with 
one  of  his  sons,  and  spoke  much  of  the  Resurrection,  in 
connection  with  his  forthcoming  paper,  dwelling  with 
especial  force  on  the  testimony  of  Paul,  and  expressing 
a  characteristic  suspense  of  judgment  among  the  various 
theories  offered  in  explanation.  The  whole  topic  occupied 
his  mind  so  fully  that  it  naturally  came  uppermost  when, 
on  the  following  afternoon,  he  met  Dr.  Martineau  at  the 
Athenseum.  The  subjoined  record  of  their  talk  was  after- 
wards communicated  by  Dr.  Martineau  to  the  Christian 
Reformer  of  January,  1886. 

About  4.30  p.m.  on  Monday,  November  9,  I  met  my  late 
friend,  Dr.  Carpenter,  at  the  Athenaeum,  for  the  first  time  since 
his  illness  in  the  early  summer.  Though  he  bore  some  slight 
traces  of  rheumatism  still,  he  was  full  of  hfe  and  energy  in  his 
conversation ;  which,  passing  quickly  from  subject  to  subject, 
soon  settled  upon  the  paper  on  miracles,  which  he  was  about 
to   prepare   for   the   Christian    Conference    on    the   following 

Monday. 

He  did  not  propose,  he  said,  to  undertake  a  substantive 
treatment  of  the  topic  as  a  whole,  but  to  content  himself  with 
a  criticism  of  Bishop  Temple's  argument  in  his  recent  volume 
of  Bampton  Lectures.  In  that  work,  the  credibility  of  miracles 
was  vindicated  in  the  method  suggested  to  Babbage  by  his 
calculating-machine,  and  expounded  in  the  so-called  "  Ninth 


CLOSING  DAYS.  151 

Bridgewater  Treatise ; "  consisting  chiefly  in  resolving  a  phe- 
nomenon, which  was  exceptional  within  the  little  span  of 
human  experience,  into  an  incident  of  some  more  slowly  cir- 
culating series.  Dr.  Carpenter  remarked  that  this  explanation, 
by  merely  throwing  the  event  out  of  the  category  of  miracle 
into  that  of  law,  stripped  off  all  its  supposed  religious  signifi- 
cance, as  a  special  act  of  Divine  witness  and  authentication. 
Instead  of  an  isolated  "  interposition,"  it  Avas  the  recurring 
term  of  a  periodicity,  admitting  of  prediction.  There  was 
neither  more  nor  less  sacredness  in  a  change  due  to  a  law 
of  giant  strides  taking  a  millennium  at  a  step,  than  in  one 
which  recurred  at  a  moment's  beat,  like  the  steps  of  a  little 
child.  If  the  common  conception  is  true,  and  all  the  order  of 
Nature  is  delivered  over  to  Second  Causes,  immediate  volition  of 
the  First  Cause  is  removed  alike  from  the  frequent  and  the 
rare.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  enumerated  energies  of  nature 
are  but  constant  varieties  of  form  in  the  Divine  activity,  the 
contents  of  every  cycle,  swift  or  slow,  are  alike  immediate.  The 
supposed  argument  from  miracles  rests  upon  an  assumed 
antithesis  between  Nature  and  God,  which  the  Babbage  solution 
destroys. 

Dr.  Carpenter  added  that,  to  him,  the  whole  class  of  argu- 
ments to  which  that  of  Bishop  Temple  belongs,  on  the  abstract 
possibility,  probability,  credibility,  of  miracles,  appeared  a 
futile  waste  of  ingenuity.  The  problem  was  not  philosophical, 
but  historical ;  and  must  be  determined  by  critical  methods 
applied  to  the  records  of  concrete  cases ;  fair  account  being 
taken,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  value  and  extent  of  assured 
first-hand  evidence;  and,  on  the  other,  of  the  sources  of  sub- 
jective illusion  and  the  fluid  state  of  all  popular  tradition. 

Under  these  conditions,  the  reported  miracles  were,  to  him, 
evidence  chiefly  of  the  intense  and  profound  impression  left  by 
the  personality  of  Jesus.  In  that,  and  in  the  spiritual  relations 
which  it  implied,  lay  the  real  secret,  and  the  permanent  power, 
of  Christianity.  These  the  records  suffice  to  preserve;  and 
with  these  it  is  wiser  for  the  present  age  to  be  content. 

More  than  this  passed  between  us  ;  and  1  believe  that  I  was 
tempted  to  say  more  in  my  recital  to  the  Christian  Conference. 
But  further  I  cannot  securely  go,  without  making  my  lamented 


152  MEMORIAL  SKETCH. 

friend  responsible  rather  for  my  part  of  the  conversation  than 
for  his  own.  The  foregoing  sentences  contain,  at  least,  the 
outUne  of  the  scheme  of  thought  which  he  sketched. 

To  this  meeting  Dr.  Carpenter  recurred  several  times 
in  the  home-talk  that  evening,  over  the  tea-table,  the 
microscope,  and  the  familiar  game  of  backgammon.  On 
retiring  to  rest  he  took  a  hot-air  bath  to  ease  the  stiffness 
and  rheumatic  pains  which  the  damp  weather  rendered 
unusually  severe,  when  the  accidental  overturning  of  the 
lamp  inflicted  such  injuries  that  after  a  few  hours — which 
closed  in  tranquil  sleep — he  passed  quietly  away. 

Four  days  later,  on  Friday,  November  13,  his  remains 
were  laid  near  those  of  a  venerated  relative  to  whom  he 
had  been  deeply  attached,  in  the  Highgate  Cemetery. 
Ere  the  last  office  was  complete,  Dr.  Sadler  spoke  of  him 
as  teacher  and  investigator,  as  companion  and  helper,  and 
added  the  following  words  on  that  aspect  of  his  life  which 
it  is  especially  the  object  of  this  volume  to  illustrate  : — 

At  a  time  when  religion  and  science  have  appeared  too 
often  unhappily  divided,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  overestimate 
the  significance  of  their  union  in  him,  of  his  steadfast  avowal 
of  his  own  faith,  and  his  personal  sympathy  with  and  participa- 
tion in  Christian  worship.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  overrate  the 
value  of  the  contributions  from  his  pen  on  religious  subjects. 
To  none,  indeed,  of  those  who  have  given  up  all  religious  pro- 
fession, was  a  narrow  and  unspiritual  theology,  such  as  has  been 
too  often  preached,  more  repellent  than  to  him.  But  in  the 
home  of  his  childhood  he  breathed  an  atmosphere  both  of 
religious  freedom  and  of  religious  feeling,  and  was  led  by  pre- 
cept and  example  to  think  freely  and  earnestly  on  religious 
subjects,  and  the  result  was  that  his  large  intellectual  culture 
did  not  repress  in  him  a  most  devotional  spirit,  but  gave  it  a 
wider  range,  and  enabled  it  to  soar  up  higher,  foreshadowing, 
I  trust,  the  way  in  which 

"That  in  us  which  thinl<s  and  that  which  feels 
Shall  everlastingly  be  reconciled, 
And  that  which  questioneth  with  that  which  kneels," 


ESSAYS. 


I. 

THE   METHOD   AND   AIM   OF  THE   STUDY  OF 

PHYSIOLOGY. 

[From  the   conclusion   of  an  article   entitled,  "  Physiology  an  Inductive 
Science,"  in  the  British  and  Foreign  Medical  Review,  April,  1838.] 

It  is  quite  evident  that  no  one  can  advantageously  commence  the 
study  of  physiology  without  a  tolerably  complete  knowledge  of 
human  anatomy,  both  general  and  special.  Those  details,  however, 
which  are  peculiarly  connected  with  physiological  inference  may, 
perhaps,  be  not  improperly  deferred  until  the  time  when  their  appli- 
cation tends  to  implant  them  on  the  memory.  Either  conjointly 
with,  or  subsequently  to,  the  study  of  the  human  organism,  we 
recommend  that  a  general  knowledge  of  comparative  anatomy  be 
acquired ;  and  though  the  magnitude  of  the  task  may  alarm  the 
student,  he  will  find  that  if  he  avoids  devoting  much  attention  to 
details  of  external  form,  and  endeavours  to  make  himself  acquainted 
with  the  general  development  of  each  system,  the  pursuit  will  be 
easy  as  well  as  delightful.  It  will  not  be  amiss  to  acquire  at  the 
same  time  a  knowledge  of  the  structure  of  vegetables,  not  only 
because  we  find  there  expressed  in  another  and  frequently  a  simpler 
form,  the  anatomical  facts  which  it  is  difficult  to  trace  in  animals, 
but  because  the  attainment  of  the  laws  of  morphology  in  flowering 
plants,  and  their  progressive  extension  in  the  cryptogamia,  may 
advantageously  serve  as  our  guide  in  the  more  intricate  pursuit  of 
similar  generalizations  in  the  animal  kingdom.  We  have  already 
stated  our  belief  that  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  of  general 
physics  is  essential  to  the  successful  cultivation  of  physiological 


IS6  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

science ;  and  when  all  these  preparatory  steps  have  been  taken, 
the  student  will  enter  upon  its  study  with  no  small  advantages. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  expediency  of  commencing 
the  study  of  anatomy  by  investigating  the  structure  of  the  simplest 
organisms,  a  plan  which  has  many  advocates,  we  are  decidedly  of 
opinion  that  this  course  is  essential  in  physiology  ;  and  that  the 
student  who  adopts  it  will  be  saved  the  necessity  of  unlearning 
many  erroneous  notions  which  he  would  unavoidably  imbibe  from 
the  premature  study  of  the  human  functions.  In  the  pursuit  of 
general  physiology  he  will  learn  what  are  the  essential  conditions 
of  life  ;  he  will  see  the  changes  indispensable  to  its  support  mani- 
fested in  their  simplest  circumstances ;  and  he  will  be  able  to 
ascertain  what  structures  are  necessary  to  their  performance,  and 
what  additions  and  modifications  these  may  undergo  to  suit  the 
various  purposes  of  their  existence.  He  will  acquire,  also,  the 
great  advantage  of  making  observation  a  substitute  for  experiment ; 
the  former  means,  wherever  it  can  be  employed  in  physiology 
being  decidedly  preferable  (as  we  hope  we  have  successfully  de- 
monstrated), both  in  the  certainty  and  satisfactory  nature  of  the 
conclusions  which  may  be  drawn  from  it ;  and  in  its  freedom 
from  those  objections  which  every  humane  mind  must  feel  to  the 
infliction  of  unnecessary  tortures  upon  beings  endowed  with 
sensations  as  acute  as  our  own. 

We  have  alluded,  in  the  early  part  of  this  article,  to  the  diffi- 
culty of  distinguishing  the  operation  of  vital  and  physical  laws  • 
and  this  we  cannot  but  regard  as  a  question  to  be  completely 
determined  before  the  laws  of  purely  vital  phenomena  can  be 
satisfactorily  established.  To  analyze  the  phenomena  in  which 
physical  laws  are  acting  under  conditions  supplied  by  vital  pro- 
cesses, and  to  trace  the  diversities  from  their  usual  mode  of  action 
occasioned  by  the  existence  of  these  conditions,  appears  to  us, 
therefore,  to  be  at  present  the  most  obvious  method  of  advancing 
the  science.  We  cannot  but  believe  that  the  inquiry  would 
ultimately  terminate  in  referring  all  vital  actions  to  properties 
as  essentially  connected  with  that  form  of  matter  which  we  call 
organized,  as  are  the  ordinary  physical  properties  with  inorganic 
matter. 

One  more  question  would  then  remain  :  is  it  possible  that  these 


THE  STUDY  OF  PHYSIOLOGY.  if,/ 

physical  and  vital  properties  of  matter,  which  are  at  present  our 
ultimate  facts  or  axioms,  may  be  hereafter  included  within  a  more 
general  expression  common  to  both  ?  On  this  subject  we  can 
only  speculate ;  but  the  probability  appears  decidedly  in  the 
affirmative.  We  have  already  remarked  upon  the  rapid  progress 
of  generalization  in  the  physical  sciences,  rendering  it  probable 
that  before  long  one  simple  formula  shall  comprehend  all  the 
phenomena  of  the  inorganic  world ;  and  it  is  not,  perhaps,  too 
much  to  hope  for  a  corresponding  simplification  in  the  laws  of  the 
organized  creation,  although  this  is  necessarily  retarded  by  the 
many  obstacles  which  the  nature  of  the  subject  presents  to 
the  philosophical  inquirer.  In  proportion  to  our  attainment  of 
such  generalizations,  we  rise  from  the  domain  of  our  ignorance  to 
that  of  our  knowledge ;  for,  at  every  successive  step,  we  are  able 
to  comprehend  new  relations  between  facts  that  previously  seemed 
confused  and  insulated ;  new  objects  for  what  formerly  appeared 
destitute  of  utility. 

Every  step,  then,  which  we  take  in  the  path  of  generalization 
must  increase  our  admiration  of  the  beauty  of  the  adaptation,  and 
the  harmony  of  the  action  of  the  laws  we  discover ;  a  beauty  and 
harmony  in  which  the  contemplative  mind  delights  to  recognize 
the  wisdom  and  beneficence  of  the  Divine  Author  of  the  universe, 
If  we  can  conceive  that  the  Almighty _;?«/ which  created  matter  out 
of  nothing,  impressed  upon  it  one  simple  law,  which  should  regu- 
late the  association  of  its  masses  into  systems  of  almost  illimitable 
extent,  controlling  their  movements,  fixing  the  times  of  the  com- 
mencement and  the  cessation  of  each  world,  and  balancing  against 
each  other  the  perturbing  influences  to  which  its  own  actions  give 
rise, — should  be  the  cause,  not  only  of  the  general  uniformity,  but 
of  the  particular  variety  of  their  conditions,  governing  the  changes 
in  the  form  and  structure  of  each  individual  globe  protracted 
through  an  existence  of  countless  centuries,  and  adjusting  the 
alternation  of  "  seasons  and  times  and  months  and  years," — should 
people  all  these  worlds  with  living  beings  of  endless  diversity  of 
nature,  providing  for  their  support,  their  happiness,  their  mutual 
reliance,  ordaining  their  constant  decay  of  succession,  not  merely 
as  individuals,  but  as  races,  and  adapting  them  in  every  minute 
particular  to  the  conditions  of  their  dwelling, — and  should  har- 


158  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

monize  and  blend  together  all  the  innumerable  multitude  of  these 
actions,  making  their  very  perturbations  sources  of  new  powers ; — 
when  our  knowledge  is  sufficiently  advanced  to  comprehend  these 
things,  then  shall  we  be  led  to  a  far  higher  and  nobler  concep- 
tion of  the  Divine  mind  than  we  have  at  present  the  means  of 
forming. 


II. 

THE   BRAIN   AND   ITS   PHYSIOLOGY. 

[From  an  article  in  the  British  and  Foreipi  Medical  Rcvieiv,  October,  1846.] 

It  may  be  desirable  to  recapitulate  briefly  the  positions  on  which 
we  have  now  dwelt. 

1.  That  the  sensory  ganglia  supply  all  the  conditions  requisite 
for  the  reception  of  sensations  in  the  higher  animals  as  in  the 
lower  ;  and  that  there  is  a  class  of  actions  excitable  through  them 
by  the  direct  influence  of  sensations ;  to  these  we  give  the  name 
of  consensual. 

2.  That  the  sensations  which  excite  these  actions,  also  excite 
the  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain,  which  have  their  seat  in  the 
same  ganglia.  These  feelings  may  receive  different  designations, 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  objects  towards  which  they  are  dis- 
played. Thus,  attachment  and  dislike,  affection  and  rage,  joy  and 
sorrow,  and  many  other  simple  and  elementary  feelings,  are  but 
modifications  or  phases  of  pleasure  and  pain,  which  receive  their 
different  designations  according  to  the  character  of  the  objects 
which  excite  them,  the  ideas  which  they  arouse,  and  the  mode  in 
which  they  are  manifested. 

3.  That  sensations,  the  simple  feelings  connected  with  them, 
and  the  consensual  movements  to  which  they  prompt,  make  up 
the  sum-total  of  those  operations  to  which  the  term  instinctive  is 
properly  applicable  ;  that  these  take  place  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  sensory  ganglia^  and  that  none  of  those  higher 
operations  which  involve  the  formation  of  ideas,  reasoning  pro- 
cesses, and  volitional  determinations,  can  take  place  without  a 
cerebrum. 


i6o  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

4.  That  the  cerebrum  is  the  seat  of  the  formation  of  ideas,  or 
elementary  notions  originating  from  sensations,  and  of  all  those 
higher  intellectual  operations^  of  which  those  ideas  form  (as  it  were) 
the  pabulum. 

5.  That  the  occurrence  of  ideas  in  the  cerebrum  may  produce 
feelings  of  pleasure  or  pain  in  the  sensory  ganglia,  analogous  to 
those  which  are  produced  by  sensations. 

6.  That  the  tendency  to  the  recurrence  of  a  certain  class  of 
ideas,  constantly  connected  with  feelings  of  pleasure  or  pain,  con- 
stitutes what  is  known  as  an  emotion,  desire,  or  propensity  ;  and 
that  this  is  composite  in  its  nature,  involving  the  cerebrum  for  the 
formation  of  ideas,  and  the  sensory  ganglia  for  the  feelings  with 
which  they  are  associated. 

7.  That  certain  ideas,  which  thus  strongly  excite  the  feelings, 
may  also  produce  m.otions  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
sensory  ganglia  and  their  nerves  ;  that  these  movements  are  in- 
voluntary in  their  character,  and  are  excited  by  emotional  states 
in  the  same  manner  as  they  are  by  direct  sensations  ;  and  that 
they  consequently  belong  to  the  consensual  group. 

8.  That  intellectual  operations  may  take  place,  in  which  the 
feelings  do  not  participate  (as,  for  example,  in  mathematical  or 
scientific  ratiocination) ;  but  that  the  motives  which  regulate  our 
personal  conduct  are,  in  great  part,  derived  from  the  feelings 
attached  to  particular  ideas  or  classes  of  ideas.  When  the 
emotional  states  thus  act,  in  affecting  the  further  course  of  the 
mental  operations,  they  have  no  immediate  agency  upon  the  body, 
their  influence  being  exerted  through  the  will. 

9.  That  the  exertion  of  the  reasoning  powers,  and  the  final 
determination  which,  in  its  action  on  the  body  or  the  mind,  we 
call  volition  or  will,  operates  solely  through  the  instrumentality  of 
the  cerebrum. 

10.  That  the  cerebrum  has  probably  no  direct  connection, 
however,  either  with  the  sensory  organs  or  with  the  muscular 
system;  but  that  it  depends  upon  the  sensorial  ganglia  for  the 
reception  of  sensations,  and  for  the  execution  of  voluntary  move- 
ments ;  this  execution  being  still  guided  by  the  sensations  received 
through  these  ganglia,  and  the  act  of  muscular  contraction  being 
dependent  upon  their  continuance. 


THE  BRAIN  AND   ITS   PHYSIOLOGY.  i6i 

We  conclude,  as  we  commenced,  by  disclaiming  any  hostility 
whatever  to  the  phrenological  system  in  the  abstract,  and  by 
freely  admitting  the  general  coincidence  between  the  indications 
of  human  character,  which  are  afforded  by  cranioscopical  examina- 
tion, and  those  derived  from  a  direct  acquaintance.  But  we  con- 
sider that,  in  building  up  their  system,  the  followers  of  Gall  have 
been  too  disregardful  of  evidence  supplied  from  other  sources  than 
observation  of  man  ;  and  that  they  have  been  misled,  as  to  the 
fundamental  connection  of  the  cerebrum  with  the  purely  instinctive 
actions,  by  their  inattention  to  comparative  anatomy,  which  proves 
that  the  cerebrum  cannot  be  the  instrument  of  those  actions  ;  and 
have  glossed  over  the  important  objection  which  the  non-develop- 
ment of  the  posterior  lobes  in  the  lower  mammalia  and  in  all  the 
oviparous  vertebrata  interposes  to  the  location  of  the  animal  pro- 
pensities in  them.  So  far,  however,  from  availing  ourselves  of 
these  errors,  as  conclusive  arguments  against  the  whole  system,  we 
have  endeavoured,  by  a  new  analysis  of  the  propensities  and 
emotions,  to  show  that  the  facts  supplied  by  comparative  anatomy 
may  be  brought  into  conformity  with  the  physiology  of  Gall ;  and 
that  the  phrenological  system  may  be  planted  upon  a  much  more 
secure  and  extended  basis  than  it  has  yet  possessed ;  a  new  and 
more  exact  series  of  observations,  however,  being  required  to 
build  it  up  Avith  anything  like  firmness  and  consistency.  We 
cannot  regard  the  question  of  the  functions  of  the  cerebellum  as 
at  all  fundamental  in  its  character  ;  and  can  easily  understand  how 
a  candid  phrenologist  like  Dr.  Gowan,  may,  on  this  point,  embrace 
the  views  held  (we  believe)  by  all  the  leading  physiologists  of 
the  day. 

Finally,  we  commend  our  review  of  the  subject  to  the  candid 
consideration  of  those  who  thmk  with  us  that  the  determination 
of  the  general  functions  of  the  encephalon  is  the  first  question  for 
the  physiologist ;  that  the  determination  of  the  share  of  these  per- 
formed by  the  cercbrn7n,  to  be  effected  by  attention  to  comparative 
anatomy  and  by  experiment,  is  \}c\q.  secotid ;  and  that  the  determina- 
tion of  the  special  functions  oi  different  parts  of  the  cerebrum,  to  be 
effected  (for  the  reasons  we  have  stated)  by  the  comparison  of  the 
varieties  of  cerebral  (not  cranial)  conformation  in  man,  with  some 
assistance  from  that  of  the  lower  animals,  is  the  third.     Upon 


i63  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

those  who  blindly  uphold  the  method  of  Gall,  in  disregard  of  all 
the  improvements  which  have  taken  place  in  our  knowledge  of 
neurology  since  his  time,  and  who  regard  the  present  phrenological 
system  as  so  perfect  as  to  be  incapable  of  improvement,  we  certainly 
despair  of  making  any  impression.  We  would  not  be  supposed  to 
assert  our  conviction  that  our  own  views,  as  now  expressed,  are  so 
complete  as  to  be  incapable  of  further  improvement.  Considering, 
as  we  do,  that  the  whole  science  of  encephalic  phrenology  is  in 
its  infancy — that  a  large  amount  of  information  as  to  the  funda- 
mental data  on  which  it  must  be  built  up  is  yet  wanting — that 
the  progress  of  comparative  anatomy,  of  embryology,  and  of 
microscopy  may  make  many  additions  to  our  knowledge  of  the 
connections  of  different  parts  of  the  nervous  centres,  which  may 
tend  to  modify  previously  received  doctrines — and  that,  on  the 
other  hand,  an  entirely  new  system  of  psychological  observation 
must  be  carried  out,  in  order  to  bring  psychology  and  physiology 
into  their  proper  relation  ;  it  would  be  absurd  in  us  to  attempt  to 
lay  down  dogmatic  conclusions,  by  which  to  stand  or  fall.  We 
would  be  understood  as  attempting  nothing  in  this  article,  but  to 
test  the  relative  validity  of  two  rival  methods  of  philosophizing  on 
this  subject.  Our  conviction  of  the  uniformity  of  Nature  is  such, 
that  we  are  thoroughly  persuaded  that  there  can  be  no  real  con- 
tradiction between  her  various  indications,  when  these  are  properly 
brought  together  and  compared  ;  and  our  attempt  has  been  to 
point  out  the  application  of  the  method,  which  has  elsewhere  been 
pursued  with  complete  success,  to  neurological  investigation.  We 
deem  it  particularly  incumbent  upon  us  to  point  out  that  even  if 
our  views  should  be  proved  to  be  erroneous  as  to  a  few  minor 
points — such,  for  example,  as  the  offices  of  the  thalami  and  corpora 
striata — our  main  argument  is  not  affected.  The  points  for  which 
we  contend  are  simply  these  :  the  independent  character  of  the 
sensory  ganglia  as  the  instruments  of  sensation  and  of  consensual 
actions  ;  the  superadded  character  of  the  cerebrum,  as  the  organ 
by  whose  instrumentality  ideas  are  formed,  and  reasoning  processes 
are  carried  on  ;  and  the  mixed  character  of  the  emotions  and  pro- 
pensities, as  compounded  of  ideas  and  sbnple  feelings  of  pleasure 
and  pain.  On  this  last  point  we  venture  to  think  that  we  have 
made  a  real  advance  in  psychology,  which  will  prove  to  be  im- 


THE  BRAIN  AND   ITS  PHYSIOLOGY.  163 

portant ;  and  we  happen  to  know  that  several  intelligent  psycho- 
logists are  well  prepared  to  receive  it,  as  fixing  and  defining  views 
which  had  been  previously  floating  in  their  own  minds.  It  seems, 
indeed,  to  have  been  glimpsed  at  by  the  late  Mr.  James  Mill,  in 
his  valuable  "  Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind ; "  his  deficiency 
consisting  in  connecting  the  feeling  too  much  with  the  sensation, 
rather  than  with  the  intellectual  idea.  We  should  be  doing  in- 
justice to  that  very  painstaking  anatomist,  Mr.  Swan,  were  we  not 
to  state  that,  on  referring  to  his  general  summary  of  his  views  of 
the  oftices  of  the  nervous  centres,  we  find  a  very  near  coincidence 
with  the  leading  features  of  our  own  doctrines  regarding  the  re- 
lative ofiices  of  the  sensory  ganglia  and  the  cerebrum — doctrines, 
indeed,  to  which  it  would  be  easy  to  point  out  approaches  in  the 
writings  of  many  previous  physiologists,  to  whose  authority  we 
might  refer  in  support  of  our  own. 


i64  NATURE  AND  MAN. 


III. 

THE   AUTOMATIC   EXECUTION   OF   VOLUNTARY 

MOVEMENTS. 

[From  an  article  on  Todd's  "  Physiology  of  the  Nervous  System,"  in  the 
British  and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical  Review,  January,  1850.] 

Every  one  who  has  attentively  considered  the  nature  of  what  we 
are  accustomed  to  call  vohmtary  action  has  been  struck  with  the 
fact  that  the  will  simply  determines  the  result,  not  the  special 
movements  by  which  it  is  brought  about.  If  it  were  otherwise,  we 
should  be  dependent  upon  our  anatomical  knowledge  for  our 
power  of  performing  the  simplest  movements  of  the  body. 
Again,  there  are  very  few  cases  in  which  we  can  single  out  any 
individual  muscle,  and  put  it  into  action  independently  of  others  ; 
the  cases  in  which  we  can  do  so  are  those  in  which  a  single 
muscle  is  concerned  in  producing  the  result,  as  in  the  elevation 
of  the  eyelids,  and  we  then  really  single  out  the  muscle  and  cause 
it  to  contract,  by  "  willing "  the  result.  Thus,  then,  however 
startling  the  position  may  at  first  appear,  we  have  a  right  to  affirm 
that  the  will  cannot  exert  any  direct  or  immediate  power  over  the 
muscles;  but  that  its  determinations  are  carried  into  effect 
through  the  intermediation  of  some  mechanism,  which,  without 
any  further  effort  on  our  own  parts,  selects  and  combines  the 
particular  muscles  whose  contractions  are  requisite  to  produce 
the  desired  movement.  This  conclusion,  at  which  we  arrive  by 
an  analysis  of  our  own  consciousness  is  in  perfect  harmony  with 
the  influences  which  we  should  draw  from  the  anatomical  rela- 
tions of  the  cerebrum  ;  for  we  have  found  strong  reason  to  believe 


AUTOMATIC  MOVEMENTS.  165 

that  the  cerebrum  does  not  directly  transmit  any  fibres  to  the 
muscular  system  ;  but  that  its  operations  are  exerted  through  those 
fibres  which  pass  between  the  surface  of  the  hemispheres  and  the 
chain  of  ganglionic  centres  at  the  base  of  the  cranium  that  con- 
stitutes the  summit  of  the  automatic  apparatus.  And  thus,  as  the 
sensorium  plays  (so  to  speak)  upon  the  cerebrum,  sending  to  it 
sensations  in  order  to  call  forth  its  activity  as  the  instrument  of 
the  purely  mental  operations,  so  does  the  cerebrum,  in  its  turn, 
play  downwards  upon  the  motor  portion  of  the  automatic  ap- 
paratus, sending  it  volitional  impulses,  which  excite  its  motorial 
activity.  Thus,  even  what  we  are  accustomed  to  consider  our 
volufitary  movements,  are  in  their  immediate  and  essential  nature 
automatic ;  their  peculiar  character  being,  that  whereas  the  ordi- 
nary automatic  movements  are  excited  by  external  stimuli,  im- 
pressional  or  sensational,  conveyed  by  the  afferent  nerves,  the 
volitional  movements  are  excited  by  a  stimulus  proceeding  from 
the  cerebrum,  and  conveyed  along  what  Reil,  with  great  sagacity, 
termed  the  nerves  of  the  internal  senses. 

The  views  which  we  have  advanced  as  to  the  really  automatic 
character  of  voluntary  movements,  and  the  inclusion  of  the 
sensorial  centres  in  the  automatic,  rather  than  in  the  cerebral, 
division  of  the  apparatus,  appear  to  us  to  be  in  most  singular 
harmony  with  the  phenomena  of  those  movements  which  were 
not  unaptly  designated  by  Hartley  as  "  secondarily  automatic," 
having  been  voluntary  in  the  first  instance,  but  having  been 
brought  by  habit  into  more  or  less  complete  independence  of 
the  will.  Such  actions,  in  fact,  take  the  place  in  man  of  those 
which  are  primarily  and  purely  automatic  in  many  of  the  lower 
animals.  Take,  for  example,  the  movements  of  progression.  In 
the  first  instance  they  are  performed  in  sole  respondence  to  the 
will.  Whilst  the  child  is  learning  to  walk,  every  single  effort  has 
a  voluntary  source ;  but  still  its  immediate  dependence  on  the 
automatic  mechanism  is  evident  in  the  necessity  for  attention  to 
the  guiding  sensations  as  the  regulators  of  the  voluntary  effort 
As  the  habit  of  movement  becomes  more  and  more  established, 
however,  we  are  able  to  withdraw  both  the  attention  and  the 
voluntary  effort,  to  such  a  degree  that  at  last  it  is  only  necessary 
for  the  will  to  start  or  commence  the  actions,  and  to  permit  their 


1 66  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

continuance.  We  think  that  no  one  can  doubt  this,  who  can 
analyze  his  own  consciousness  as  to  those  states  of  "  reverie  "  in 
which  the  mind  is  completely  withdrawn  from  the  contemplation 
of  external  objects,  and  is  concentrated,  as  it  were,  upon  itself. 
A  person  who  is  subject  to  such  fits  of  "absence  of  mind,"  may 
fall  into  one  of  them  whilst  walking  the  streets;  his  whole  atten- 
tion shall  be  absorbed  in  his  train  of  thought,  so  that  he  is 
conscious  of  no  more  interruption  in  its  continuity  than  if  his 
body  were  perfectly  at  rest,  and  his  reverie  was  taking  place  in 
the  quietude  of  his  own  study ;  and  yet,  during  the  whole  of 
that  time,  his  hmbs  shall  have  been  in  motion,  carrying  him  along 
the  accustomed  path  ;  and  his  vision  shall  have  given  the  direc- 
tion to  these  movements  which  is  requisite  to  guide  him  along  a 
particular  line,  or  to  move  him  out  of  it  for  the  avoidance  of 
obstacles.  In  such  a  case  it  would  seem  as  if  the  contact  of 
the  foot  with  the  ground,  in  making  each  step,  was  the  stimulus 
to  the  next  movement ;  and  as  if  the  visual  organs  exerted  just 
the  same  automatic  guidance  over  the  direction  of  the  progres- 
sion as  they  appear  to  do  in  animals  which  do  not  possess  a 
distinct  organ  of  intelligence  and  will.  The  complete  occupation 
of  the  mind  in  other  ways,  as  in  close  conversation  or  argument, 
is  equally  favourable  to  this  independent  action  of  the  automatic 
apparatus  in  progression  ;  and  many  other  cases  might  be  cited, 
in  which  an  habitual  train  of  actions,  such  as  reading  aloud,  or 
playing  on  a  musical  instrument,  is  not  interrupted  by  the  complete 
withdrawal  of  the  attention,  and  consequent  suspension  of  volun- 
tary effort. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  explain  such  phenomena  on  the 
hypothesis  of  the  "  distinct  system  ;  "  because  we  cannot  con- 
ceive how  a  set  of  movements  originally  performed  by  the 
sensori- volitional  or  cerebral  fibres  can  ever  be  transferred  to 
the  excito-motor  or  spinal ;  and  every  one  allows  that  in  man 
these  movements  are  in  the  first  instance  prompted  by  the  will  and 
performed  under  the  guidance  of  sensations.  On  our  hypothesis, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  solution  is  easy  and  natural.  Even  when 
voluntary,  as  they  are  in  the  first  instance,  these  movements  are 
performed  by  the  instrumentality  of  the  automatic  apparatus ;  and 
the   influence   of  habit  gradually   links  on    the   actions  to   the 


AUTOMATIC  MOVEMENTS.  167 

sensations  which  at  first  guided  them,  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
latter  at  last  come  to  be  in  themselves  adequate  excitors  of 
the  movement,  when  the  series  has  once  been  commenced  by 
an  exertion  of  the  will.  It  has  been  thought  by  some  a  sufficient 
proof  of  the  voluntary  nature  of  these  movements,  that  we  can 
check  them  at  any  time  by  an  effort  of  the  will  ;  but  this  we  do 
only  when  the  attention  has  been  recalled  to  them,  so  that  the 
cerebrum,  liberated,  as  it  were,  from  its  previous  self-occupation, 
resumes  its  usual  play  upon  the  automatic  centres.  It  has  been 
asked,  moreover,  why,  if  these  sensations  are  adequate  to  call 
forth  automatic  movements  when  the  perceptive  and  voluntary 
operation  of  the  cerebrum  is  suspended,  they  do  not  exert  the 
same  influence  when  it  is  in  its  ordinary  condition  of  functional 
activity.  This  inquiry,  however,  is  equally  applicable  to  the 
most  undoubted  cases  of  automatic  movement ;  thus  we  do  not 
find  that  tickling  the  soles  of  the  feet  in  man  ordinarily  produces 
the  same  semi-convulsive  agitation  of  the  lower  extremities,  that 
such  irritation  will  call  forth  when  the  spinal  cord  has  been 
divided  or  seriously  injured  in  the  dorsal  region.  And  when 
the  cerebral  influence  is  withdrawn  by  the  absorption  of  the 
mind  in  reverie,  slight  stimuli  will  often  call  forth  unaccustomed 
and  sometimes  powerful  automatic  movements.  So,  again,  during 
sleep,  when  both  the  cerebrum  and  the  sensory  ganglia  are  in  a 
state  of  torpor,  reflex  actions  may  be  excited  through  the  spinal 
cord,  such  as  could  not  be  called  forth  by  the  same  stimuli  in  the 
waking  state.  The  fact  appears  to  be  that,  when  the  cerebrum 
is  in  its  usual  state  of  activity,  any  irritation  which  would  dispose 
to  reflex  action,  if  its  effect  were  limited  to  the  automatic  centres, 
is  expended  (as  it  were)  by  being  propagated  onwards  to  the 
cerebrum  ;  and  the  mind  thus  rendered  conscious  of  it,  controls, 
if  necessary,  any  tendency  to  automatic  action  which  it  may  have 
excited.  But  when  this  onward  propagation  of  the  polar  state  is 
checked,  either  by  interruption  of  the  structural  continuity,  or  by 
the  want  of  a  recipient  condition  of  the  cerebrum,  it  must  then 
react  in  the  automatic  apparatus  itself.  The  case,  in  fact,  appears 
to  us  to  be  analogous  to  that  of  the  emotional  impulses,  which 
are  not  so  prone  to  act  upon  the  mi/id  when  they  can  discharge 
themselves  through  the  /^odj  by  muscular  movement.     The  im- 


i68  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

mediate  seat  of  these  impulses,  Dr.  Todd  agrees  with  us  in 
locating  in  the  sensory  ganglia;  but  he  does  not  seem  to  us 
sufficiently  to  recognize  the  participation  of  the  cerebrum  in 
emotional  states.  A  simple  feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain  excited 
by  a  sensation,  and  tending  to  react  directly  upon  the  muscular 
system,  cannot  be  correctly  termed  an  emotion ;  for  this  last 
involves  an  idea,  which,  though  originally  springing  from  a 
sensation,  at  last  comes  to  be  quite  independent  of  external 
stimuli.  But  the  idea  is  not  emotional  so  long  as  it  is  a  state 
of  simple  consciousness  :  it  must  be  associated  with  a  pleasur- 
able or  painful  feeling,  in  order  that  it  may  become  so ;  and  then, 
if  strongly  excited,  it  may  act  at  once  through  the  automatic 
centres,  without  any  effort  of  the  will.  In  an  emotional  action, 
then,  we  believe  the  impulse  to  be  formed  in  the  sensorial  centres, 
so  that  it  so  far  resembles  an  instinctive  movement ;  but  this  im- 
pulse derives  its  force  rather  from  a  cerebral  idea  than  from  an 
external  sensation  ;  and  its  influence,  if  not  exerted  downwards 
through  the  motor  apparatus,  is  transmitted  back  again  to  the 
cerebrum,  so  as  to  modify  the  course  of  the  intellectual  opera- 
tions, and  to  supply  motives  to  the  will. 


IV. 

ON  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  SUGGESTION  IN  MODIFY- 
ING AND  DIRECTING  MUSCULAR  MOVEMENT, 
INDEPENDENTLY  OF  VOLITION. 

[From  a  report  of  a  Lecture  at  the  Royal  Institution,  March  12,  1852.] 

It  now  remains  to  inquire  whether  any  such  physiological  ac- 
count can  be  given  of  the  "biological"  state,  as  shall  enable  us 
to  refer  it  to  any  of  the  admitted  laws  of  action  of  the  nervous 
system.  This,  the  lecturer  stated,  was  the  point  which  he  was 
the  most  desirous  of  elucidating ;  and  in  order  to  prepare  his 
auditors  for  the  reception  of  his  views,  he  gave  a  brief  explanation 
of  those  phenomena  of  "reflex"  action  (now  universally  recog- 
nized by  physiologists),  in  which  impressions  made  upon  the 
nervous  system  are  followed  by  respondent  automatic  movements. 
Such  movements  have  hitherto  been  distinguished  into  the  excito- 
motor,  which  are  performed,  without  the  exciting  impression  being 
necessarily  felt,  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  spinal  cord  and 
the  nerves  connected  with  it ;  and  the  scnsori-motor,  in  which  sensa- 
tion necessarily  participates,  the  respondent  motions  not  being 
executed  unless  the  impressions  are  felt,  and  their  instrument 
being  the  chain  of  sensory  ganglia  (collectively  constituting  the 
"  sensorium  ")  which  lies  between  the  spinal  cord  and  the  cere- 
brum, and  is  intimately  connected  with  both.  The  automatic 
movements  of  breathing  and  swallowing,  which  continue  during 
a  state  of  profound  insensibility,  are  examples  of  the  former 
group ;  whilst  the  start  upon  a  loud  sound,  the  closure  of  the 
lids  to  a  flash  of  light,  or  the  sneezing  induced  by  the  dazzling 
of  the  eyes,  as  well  as  by  the  irritation  of  the  nasal  passages,  are 
instances  of  the  latter.  The  whole  class  of  purely  emoiional 
movements  may  be  likened  to  these ;  for  in  so  far  as  they  are 


I/O 


NATURE  AND  MAN. 


involuntary,  and  depend  upon  the  excitation  of  certain  states  of 
mind  by  external  impressions,  they  must  be  considered  as 
"  reflex  "  in  the  general  sense  of  that  term. 

Now  the  usual  modus  operandi  of  sensations  is  to  call  forth 
ideas  to  the  mind ;  and  these  ideas,  associated  or  not  with  emo- 
tional states,  become  the  subjects  of  intellectual  processes,  which 
result  at  last  in  a  determination  of  the  will.  The  movements  we 
term,  voluntary  or  volitional  differ  from  the  emotional  and  auto- 
matic, in  being  guided  by  a  distinct  conception  of  the  object  to 
be  attained,  and  by  a  rational  choice  of  the  means  employed. 
And  so  long  as  the  voluntary  power  asserts  its  due  predominance, 
so  long  can  it  keep  in  check  all  tendency  to  any  other  kind  of 
action,  save  such  as  ministers  directly  to  the  bodily  wants,  as  the 
automatic  movements  of  breathing  and  swallowing. 

The  cerebrum  is  universally  admitted  to  be  the  portion  of  the 
nervous  system  which  is  instrumentally  concerned  in  the  forma- 
tion of  ideas,  the  excitement  of  the  emotions,  and  the  operations 
of  the  intellect ;  and  there  seems  no  reason  why  it  should  be 
exempted  from  the  law  of  "  reflex  action,"  which  applies  to 
every  other  part  of  the  nervous  system.*  And  as  we  have  seen 
that  the  emotions  may  act  directly  upon  the  muscular  system 
through  the  motor  nerves,  there  is  no  a  priori  dithculty  in  believ- 
ing that  ideas  may  become  the  sources  of  muscular  movement, 
independently  either  of  volitions  or  of  emotions. — The  relations 
of  these  different  modes  of  action  of  the  nervous  system,  and  the 
place  which  this  ideo-motor  form  of  "  reflex "  operation  will 
hold  in  regard  to  the  rest,  will  be  made  more  apparent  by  the 


following  tabular  arrangement : — 


THE  WILL 


Volitional  Movement 


Cerebrum —>  Motor  Impulse  N    g 


Intellectual  Processes''  ■) 

t    t  I 

i    Emotions 

L-t 

Ideas 

t 

Sensations  -^  Sensory  Ganglia  — >  Motor  Impulse 

t 

Impressions  — ^  Spinal  Cord  — ^  Motor  Impulse 


rt    O 


< 


*  To  Dr.  Laycock  is  due  the  credit  of  first  extending  the  doctrine  of  reflex 
action  to  the  brain. 


SUGGESTION  AND   MOVEMENT.  171 

Now  if  that  ordinary  71  p7v a rd  comsQ  of  external  impressions — 
whereby  they  successively  produce  sensations,  ideas,  emotions, 
and  intellectual  processes,  the  will  giving  the  final  decision  upon 
the  action  to  which  they  prompt — be  anywhere  interrupted,  the 
impression  will  then  exert  its  power  in  a  transverse  direction,  and 
a  "reflex"  action  will  be  the  result.  This  is  well  seen  in  cases 
of  injury  to  the  spinal  cord,  which  disconnects  its  lower  portion 
from  the  sensorium  without  destroying  its  own  power  :  for  im- 
pressions made  upon  the  lower  extremities  then  excite  violent 
reflex  actions,  to  which  there  would  have  been  no  tendency  if  the 
current  of  nervous  force  could  have  passed  upwards  to  the  cere- 
brum. So,  if  sensations  be  prevented  by  the  state  of  the  cerebrum 
from  calling  forth  ideas  through  its  instrumentality,  they  may 
react  upon  the  motor  apparatus  in  a  manner  in  which  they  would 
never  do  in  its  state  of  complete  functional  activity.  This  the 
Lecturer  maintained  to  be  the  true  account  of  the  mode  in 
which  the  locomotive  movements  are  maintained  and  guided  in 
states  of  profound  abstraction,  when  the  whole  attention  of  the 
individual  is  so  completely  concentrated  upon  his  own  train 
of  thought  that  he  does  not  perceive  the  objects  around  him, 
although  his  movements  are  obviously  guided  by  the  impressions 
whicli  they  make  upon  his  sensorium.  And  he  adverted  to  a 
very  remarkable  case,  in  which  the  functional  activity  of  the 
cerebrum  seemed  to  have  been  almost  entirely  suspended  for 
nearly  a  twelvemonth,  and  all  the  actions  of  the  individual 
presented  the  automatic  characters  of  consensual  and  reflex 
movements. 

On  the  same  grounds,  it  seems  reasonable  to  suppose  that 
when  ideas  do  not  go  on  to  be  developed  into  emotions,  or  to 
excite  intellectual  operations,  they,  too,  may  act  (so  to  speak)  in 
the  transverse  direction,  and  may  produce  respondent  movements 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  cerebrum  ;  and  this  will  of 
course  be  most  likely  to  happen  when  the  power  of  the  will  is  in 
abeyance,  as  has  been  shown  to  be  the  case  in  regard  to  the 
direction  of  the  thoughts,  in  the  states  of  electro-biology,  somnam- 
bulism, and  all  forms  of  dreaming  and  reverie.  Here  the  move- 
ments express  the  ideas  that  may  possess  the  mind  at  the  time  ; 
with  these  ideas,  emotional  states  may  be  mixed  up,  and  even 


172  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

intellectual  operations  may  be  (as  it  were)  automatically  per- 
formed under  their  suggestive  influence.  But  so  long  as  these 
processes  are  carried  on  without  the  control  and  direction  of  the 
will,  and  the  course  of  thought  is  entirely  determined  by  sug- 
gestions from  without  (the  effects  of  which,  however,  are  diversi- 
fied by  the  mental  constitution  and  habits  of  thought  of  the 
individual),  such  movements  are  as  truly  automatic  as  are  those 
more  directly  prompted  by  sensations  and  impressions,  although 
originating  in  a  more  truly  psychical  source.  But  the  automatic 
nature  of  the  purely  emotional  actions  can  scarcely  be  denied; 
and  as  it  is  in  those  individuals  in  whom  the  intellectual  powers 
are  the  least  exercised,  and  the  controlling  power  of  the  will  is  the 
weakest,  that  the  emotions  exert  the  strongest  influence  on  the 
bodily  frame,  so  may  we  expect  ideas  to  act  most  powerfully 
when  the  dominance  of  the  will  is  for  the  time  completely 
suspended. 

Thus  the  ideo-motor  principle  of  action  finds  its  appropriate 
place  in  the  physiological  scale,  which  would,  indeed,  be  incom- 
plete without  it.  And,  when  it  is  once  recognized,  it  may  be 
applied  to  the  explanation  of  numerous  phenomena  which  have 
been  a  source  of  perplexity  to  many  who  have  been  convinced  of 
their  genuineness,  and  who  could  not  see  any  mode  of  reconciling 
them  with  the  known  laws  of  nervous  action.  The  phenomena 
in  question  are  those  which  have  been  recently  set  down  to  the 
action  of  an  "  Od-force,"  such,  for  example,  as  the  movements  of 
the  "  divining-rod,"  and  the  vibration  of  bodies  suspended  from 
the  finger ;  both  which  have  been  clearly  proved  to  depend  on 
the  state  of  expectant  attentio?i  on  the  part  of  the  performer,  his 
will  being  temporarily  withdrawn  from  control  over  his  muscles 
by  the  state  of  abstraction  to  which  his  mind  is  given  up,  and  the 
anticipation  of  a  given  result  being  the  stimulus  which  directly 
and  involuntarily  prompts  the  muscular  movements  that  produce  it. 


V. 

THE  PHASTS  OF  FORCE.* 

[In  the  earlier  part  of  the  article,  Dr.  Carpenter  referred  to  "a  few  of  the 
"more  striking  and  typical  examples  o{  \\\q  phasis  of  matter,  for  the  purpose  of 
"introducing  a  kindred  topic,  the  phasis  of  force.'''  After  ilkistnting  the 
mutual  correlation  of  mechanical  force,  heat,  chemical  affinity,  and  electricity, 
he  dealt  with  light,  passing  from  its  relation  to  the  preceding  modes  of  force, 
to  describe  its  effects  in  influencing  vital  processes,  and  thus  advancing  to  the 
phenomena  of  life.] 

In  by  far  the  larger  number  of  cases  in  which  Light  is  evolved, 
its  manifestation  can  be  directly  traced  to  chemical  combination ; 
whilst,  conversely,  light  is  often  a  most  powerful  agent  in  bringing 
about  chemical  change.  In  fact,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  light 
does  not  alter  the  structure  or  composition  of  all  matter  through 
which  it  passes,  or  on  which  it  falls.  Upon  such  an  alteration 
depend,  not  only  all  the  phenomena  of  photography,  and  numerous 
chemical  changes  of  a  most  important  character,  but  also  the 
sustentation  of  all  organic  life,  and  our  own  sensibility  to  visual 
phenomena.  For  it  is  by  the  extraordinary  influence  of  light  upon 
the  surface  of  the  growing  plant,  that  it  is  able  to  separate  the 
inorganic  elements  of  water,  carbonic  acid,  and  ammonia,  and  to 
unite  them  into  those  new  and  peculiar  compounds — starch,  oil, 
albumen,  and  their  derivatives — which  serve,  not  only  for  the 
extension  of  the  vegetable  fabric,  but  also  for  the  nutrition  of  the 
animal  body ;  so  that  without  light,  as  Lavoisier  truly  said,  nature 
were  without  life  and  without  soul.  So,  again,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  it  is  by  directly  producing  some  change  in  the  nervous 
tissue  of  the  retina,  of  which  change  the  result  is  transmitted  to 

*  National  Review,  April,  1S57. 


174  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

the  sensorium,  that  luminous  impressions  are  communicated  to 
our  consciousness  ;  and  this  change  is  essential  to  the  continued 
nutrition  of  the  tissue  ;  for  it  is  well  known  to  the  physiologist, 
that  if  an  opacity  on  the  front  of  the  eye  completely  prevent  the 
access  of  light  to  the  interior,  the  retina  and  the  optic  nerve 
gradually  waste  away,  just  as  muscles  do  when  long  disused. 
What  the  precise  nature  of  this  change  may  be,  is  yet  beyond  our 
ken  ;  but  of  the  immediate  and  direct  relation  of  light  to  the 
peculiar  properties  of  animal  bodies,  a  very  remarkable  proof  has 
been  recently  given  by  the  researches  of  one  of  the  best  experi- 
mental physiologists  of  our  time,  M.  Brown-Sequard  ;  for  he  has 
found  that  the  contraction  of  the  fibres  of  the  iris,  which  diminishes 
the  diameter  of  the  pupil,  is  capable  of  being  called  forth,  not  only 
by  the  stimulus  of  light  upon  the  retina,  which  affects  the  iris 
through  the  nervous  circle  of  reflex  action,  but  also  by  the  impact 
of  Light  upon  the  iris  itself,  which  directly  excites  the  contraction 
of  its  muscular  fibres,  in  the  same  way  as  electrical  or  mechanical 
stimulation  excites  muscular  contraction  elsewhere. 

By  these  most  important  links  of  connection,  we  are  conducted 
to  another  division  of  the  inquiry — that  which  relates  to  the  powers 
of  Life.  There  have  not  been  wanting,  at  any  period  in  the  history 
of  physiology,  men  who  have  attempted  to  identify  all  the  forces 
actii.g  in  the  living  body  with  those  operating  in  the  inorganic 
universe.  Because  muscular  force,  when  brought  to  bear  on  the 
bones,  puts  them  in  motion  according  to  the  laws  of  mechanics — 
and  because  the  propulsive  power  of  the  heart  drives  the  blood 
through  the  vessels  on  strictly  hydraulic  rules,  it  has  been  imagined 
that  the  movements  of  living  bodies  may  be  fully  explained  on 
physical  principles  ;  no  account  being  taken  of  the  most  im- 
portant consideration  of  all,  namely,  the  source  of  that  power 
which  the  living  muscle  possesses,  but  which  the  dead  muscle  is 
utterly  incapable  of  exerting.  So,  again,  because  the  digestive 
process,  whereby  food  is  reduced  to  a  fit  state  for  absorption,  and 
the  formation  of  various  products  of  the  decomposition  that  is 
continually  taking  place  in  the  living  body,  may  be  imitated  in  the 
laboratory,  it  has  been  supposed  that  the  appropriation  of  the 
nutriment  to  the  production  of  living  tissue,  and  the  various  meta- 
morphoses which  this  undergoes,  are  to  be  regarded  as  chemical 


THE   P  HAS  IS    OF  FORCE.  175 

phenomena  ;  here,  again,  those  most  essential  peculiarities  of  the 
living  body,  which  involve  the  temporary  subjection  of  ordinary 
chemical  affinities  to  some  other  agency,  being  entirely  passed  by. 
A  scarcely  less  unphilosophical  method,  however,  has  been  pursued 
by  another  class  of  reasoners,  who  have  cut  the  Gordian  knot  by 
attributing  all  the  actions  of  living  bodies  which  physics  and 
chemistry  cannot  account  for,  to  a  hypothetical  "  vital  principle  ;  " 
an  agency  which  they  suppose  to  exert  an  autocratic  rule  in  each 
organism,  and  whose  laws  they  think  it  vain  to  seek. 

By  various  intelligent  physiologists  of  modern  times,  however, 
the  dynamical  ideas  introduced  from  physics  and  chemistry  have 
been  carried  into  the  domain  of  life ;  and  it  has  been  felt  that  the 
only  mode  of  placing  physiology  on  a  truly  scientific  basis  is,  to 
regard  those  phenomena  which,  being  altogether  peculiar  to  living 
bodies,  are  designated  "vital,"  as  the  manifestations  of  a  special 
force  or  power,  and  to  seek  to  determine  the  laws  of  its  operation 
by  the  study  of  its  actions.     Of  all  these  actions,  there  is  none  so 
universal,  and  therefore  so   characteristic,   as  that  by  which  the 
organism  is  built  up,  or  rather  builds  itself  up,  from  the  germ,  by 
the  appropriation  of  materials  derived  from  external  sources,  and 
subsequently  maintains  itself  in  its  characteristic  form  during  its 
term  of  life ;  hence  the  hypothetical  power  which  is  the  supposed 
source  of  it,   has   been  designated  as   the  nisus  fonnaiivns,   the 
bildimgsirieb,  or  the  oi'ga/Jizing  force.     This  power  is  usually  con- 
sidered as  inherent  in  the  organic  structure,  and  as  quite  indepen- 
dent of  heat  or  other  agencies  external  to  this,  although  they  are 
admitted  to  exert  an  exciting  or  modifying  influence  on  its  0];)era- 
tion ;  and  it  is  supposed  to  be  imparted  to  each  individual,  like 
the  substance  of  the  germ  from  which  it  sprang,  by  the  parental 
organisms  which  preceded  it.    In  this  point  of  view,  therefore,  the 
germ  being  potentially  the  entire  organism,  all  the  organizing  force 
required  to  build  up  an  oak  or  a  palm,  an  elephant  or  a  whale, 
must  be  concentrated  in  a  minute    particle  only  discernible  by 
microscopic  aid.     But  the  hypothesis  may  be  disproved  by  even 
a  more  complete  rednctio  ad  absurdum  than  this  ;  for  if  we  suppose 
the  whole  organizing  force  to  be  inherent  in  the  organism  itself, 
and  to  have  been  at  first  derived  from  its  parents,  the  aggregate  of 
the  forces  possessed  by  the  several  individuals,  how  numerous  so- 


176  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

ever,  of  any  one  species,  must  have  been  concentrated  in  their 
first  progenitors — a  doctrine  scarcely  less  monstrous  than  that  of 
the  emboitement  of  the  germs  themselves,  which  were  once  supposed 
to  lie  packed  one  within  the  other,  like  nests  of  pill-boxes. 

Now,  as  the  process  of  physiological  inquiry  has  been  recently 
bringing  more  and  more  clearly  into  view  the  dependence  of  all 
Vital  activity  upon  certain  antecedent  conditions,  it  has  especially 
established  such  a  definite  relation  between  the  degree  of  this 
activity  and  the  amount  of  Heat  supplied  to  the  organism,  either 
from  external  or  internal  sources,  as  to  make  it  clear  that  this 
agent  is  much  more  than  a  mere  stimulus  or  provocative  to  the 
exercise  of  the  vital  force,  and  really  furnishes  the  power  that  does 
the  work.  It  has  been,  in  fact,  from  the  narrow  limitation  of  the 
area  over  which  physiological  research  has  been  commonly  pro- 
secuted, that  this  great  truth  has  not  sooner  become  apparent. 
Whilst  the  vital  phenomena  of  warm-blooded  animals,  which 
possess  within  themselves  the  means  of  maintaining  a  constant 
temperature,  were  made  the  sole,  or  at  any  rate  the  chief  objects 
of  study,  it  was  not  likely  that  the  inquirer  would  recognize  the 
influence  of  external  heat  in  accelerating,  or  of  cold  in  retarding 
their  functional  activity.  It  is  only  when  the  survey  is  extended 
to  cold-blooded  animals  and  to  plants,  that  the  immediate  and 
direct  relation  between  heat  and  vital  energy — as  manifested  in 
the  rate  of  growth  and  development,  or  of  other  changes  peculiar 
to  the  living  body — is  unmistakably  evinced. 

All  the  facts  and  generalizations  of  Botanical  Geography  point 
to  the  uninterrupted  supply  of  a  large  measure  of  light  and  heat  as 
the  source  of  the  rich  luxuriance  and  perennial  activity  of  tropical 
vegetation  ;  whilst  the  periodical  declension  of  vegetative  activity 
which  we  observe  in  the  trees  and  plants  of  the  temperate  zone,  is 
no  less  obviously  due  to  the  seasonal  diminution  in  the  supply  of 
these  agents.  So,  again,  the  entire  cessation  of  all  manifestations 
of  vegetative  life  during  the  protracted  intensity  of  an  arctic  winter, 
is  in  striking  contrast  with  the  almost  incredible  rapidity  of  develop- 
ment, which  is  observable  under  the  unintermitted  beams  of  the 
summer  sun.  Now,  there  are  certain  annual  plants,  such  as  the 
corn-grains,  which  will  flourish  under  a  considerable  variety  of 
climatic  conditions,  and  whose  term  of  life  is  definitely  marked 


THE  PHASIS   OF  FORCE.  177 

out;  and  of  such  it  has  been  ascertained  by  Boussingault,  that  the 
same  aggregate  amount  of  light  and  heat  is  required  by  each  kind 
for  the  sustentation  of  its  whole  term  of  activity  from  germination 
to  the  maturation  of  its  seed,  under  whatever  latitude  it  be  grown  ; 
that  term  being  so  uniformly  abbreviated  by  an  exaltation,  and 
protracted  by  a  depression,  in  the  intensity  of  these  forces,  as  to 
show  that  its  rate  of  life  must  stand  in  a  direct  ratio  to  them. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  influence  of  light  is  exerted  in 
providing  the  material  for  vegetable  growth  by  a  quasi-chemical 
action  ;  and  it  is  capable  of  proof  by  direct  experiment,  that, 
ceteris  paribus,  the  quantity  of  carbonic  acid  decomposed  by  a 
plant  in  a  given  time  is  proportional  to  the  amount  of  light  that 
has  fallen  upon  it.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  light  acts 
upon  more  than  the  surface,  or  that  it  has  any  direct  concern  with 
the  internal  operations  of  growth  and  development.  On  the 
contrary,  we  find  that  at  one  most  important  epoch,  that  of  ger- 
mination, these  processes  are  most  actively  carried  on  in  the 
dark  ;  it  being  only  when  all  the  store  of  nutriment  laid  up  in  the 
seed  has  been  exhausted,  and  when  the  young  plant  is  beginning 
to  be  dependent  upon  that  which  it  obtains  for  itself,  that  the 
influence  of  light  becomes  requisite.  On  the  other  hand,  the  rate 
of  germination  is  so  closely  dependent,  as  every  maltster  knows, 
upon  the  degree  of  heat  to  which  the  seed  is  exposed,  that  it  is 
capable  of  being  exactly  regulated  by  an  increase  or  a  diminution 
of  the  temperature ;  and  thus  we  are  led  to  regard  heat  as  the 
force  by  which  the  vegetable  germ  is  enabled  to  appropriate  the 
nutriment  prepared  for  it,  and  to  organize  this  into  living  tissue. 
Such  a  view,  however,  is  by  no  means  equivalent  to  the  assertion 
that  heat  is  itself  the  "  vital  principle,"  or  the  organizing  force. 
We  do  not  say  that  heat  is  electricity,  because  the  heating  of  a 
certain  combination  of  metals  produces  an  electric  current  through 
them  ;  nor  do  we  say  that  heat  is  mechanical  force,  because  by 
boiling  water  we  generate  an  elastic  vapour.  In  each  of  these 
instances  the  character  of  the  force  is  changed ;  and  so  it  is  here. 
The  living  organism  is  the  medium  of  transmutation,  like  the  bis- 
muth and  antimony  in  the  first  case,  or  like  the  water  in  the 
second;  and  its  special  peculiarity  is,  that  it  converts  the  heat, 
not  only  into  vital  force  generally,  but  into  that  peculiar  form  of 


178  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

it  which  exerts  itself  in  building  up  and  maintaining  a  certain 
structural  type.  Thus  each  species  puts  to  a  use  of  its  own  the 
heat  that  is  supplied  to  it;  just  as,  if  we  may  use  so  rough  a 
simile,  each  of  the  machines  in  a  large  manufactory  may  turn  out 
a  particular  kind  of  work,  although  the  same  motor  force  is  sup- 
plied to  all  ;  and  each  generation  transmits  to  its  successor,  not 
the  force,  but  the  capacity,  for  making  a  particular  use  of  the 
force;  just  as  a  machine  would  do,  that  could  apply  its  motor 
power  to  the  construction  of  another  machine  similar  to  itself. 

The  study  of  the  life-history  of  cold-blooded  animals — those, 
namely,  whose  temperature  closely  follows  that  of  the  medium 
they  inhabit — leads  to  precisely  the  same  conclusions ;  as  is 
especially  apparent  in  those  cases  in  which  the  ratio  of  life  can  be 
most  accurately  estimated.  The  earliest  developmental  changes 
in  the  fertilized  egg  of  the  frog,  for  example,  consist  in  the  cleavage, 
or  segmentation  of  the  yolk-mass,  first  into  two  parts,  tlien  into 
four,  then  into  eight,  and  so  on  ;  and  it  was  found  by  Mr.  Newport 
that  the  periods  at  which  the  successive  cleavages  took  place  were 
so  precisely  determined  by  the  temperature  to  which  the  eggs  were 
exposed,  that  he  could  predicate  the  former  from  the  latter  with 
great  precision.  So  it  has  long  been  known  that  the  production  of 
larvcE  from  the  eggs  of  insects  could  be  accelerated  or  retarded, 
like  the  germination  of  plants,  by  increase  or  diminution  of  tem- 
perature ;  and  that  the  same  holds  good  also  regarding  the  pro- 
duction of  the  perfect  chrysalis  in  the  last  metamorphosis.  In  the 
adult  animal,  the  rate  of  life  may  be  in  some  degree  estimated  by 
the  amount  of  carbonic  acid  thrown  off  in  respiration  ;  and  it  has 
been  shown  by  the  experiments  of  Dr.  W,  F.  Edwards,  that  this 
increases  in  a  direct  ratio  to  the  temperature  to  which  the  body  is 
exposed  ;  whilst  the  duration  of  life,  when  respiration  is  prevented, 
is  much  greater  at  low  temperatures  than  at  high,  showing  that  the 
animals  then  live  much  more  slowly. 

The  case  is  different,  however,  with  warm-blooded  animals  ;  for 
they  are  rendered  in  a  great  degree  independent  of  external  varia- 
tions, by  the  power  which  they  possess  of  generating  such  an 
amount  of  heat  within  themselves,  as  shall  keep  the  temperature 
of  their  bodies  up  to  a  certain  fixed  standard.  Hence  it  is  that 
their  rate  of  life  varies  very  little,  and  that  their  developmental 


THE  P  HAS  IS   OF  FORCE.  179 

functions  are  performed  with  a  remarkable  conformity  to  fixed 
periods  of  time.  Thus,  in  the  incubated  egg  of  the  bird,  which  is 
not  left  to  casual  supplies  of  warmth,  but  is  constantly  subjected 
to  the  high  temperature  of  the  maternal  body,  the  chick  is  matured 
after  a  definite  term  of  days ;  and  if  the  requisite  heat  were  not 
thus  constantly  supplied,  not  merely  would  the  developmental 
process  be  suspended,  but  the  reduction  of  temperature  would 
annihilate  the  organizing  power.  For  it  is  the  peculiarity  of  warm- 
blooded animals,  that  whilst  this  power  is  more  energetic  in  its 
action  than  in  that  of  the  lower  tribes,  it  requires  for  its  mainte- 
nance a  higher  measure  of  heat;  so  that  a  reduction  of  the 
temperature  of  the  body  to  such  a  degree  as  would  favour  the 
energetic  activity  of  the  lish  or  reptile,  would  be  fatal  to  the  bird 
or  mammal. 

Although  there  is  still  some  obscurity  respecting  certain  phe- 
nomena of  "  animal  heat,"  yet  there  is  no  question  amongst 
either  chemists  or  physiologists  in  regard  to  the  general  fact,  that 
the  main  source  of  this  heat  is  the  oxygenation  (by  a  kind  of 
combustive  process)  of  the  hydrocarbons  contained  in  the  food. 
Now,  we  have  seen  that  all  these  hydrocarbons,  such  as  starch, 
sugar,  oil,  etc.,  are  either  directly  or  indirectly  derived  from  the 
vegetable  kingdom ;  and  not  only  a  direct  amount  of  oxygen, 
hydrogen,  and  carbon  have  been  consumed  in  their  production, 
but  also  a  certain  amount  of  solar  light  and  heat,  which  they  may 
thus  be  said  to  embody.  The  combustive  process  is  not  so 
carried  on  in  the  living  body  as  to  give  forth  light,  save  in  a  few 
exceptional  cases,  but  it  reproduces  in  the  form  of  heat  all  that 
was  embodied  in  the  respiratory  food,  and  thus  the  warm-blooded 
animal  may  be  said  to  be  continually  restoring  to  the  universe 
that  force  which  the  growing  plant  had  appropriated  to  itself. 
And,  carrying  the  same  principle  a  little  further,  we  may  say,  that 
in  utilizing  the  stores  of  coal  which  have  been  prepared  by  the 
luxuriant  vegetation  of  past  ages,  man  is  not  only  restoring  to  the 
atmosphere  the  carbonic  acid  and  water  of  the  carboniferous 
epoch,  but  is  actually  reproducing  and  applying  to  his  own  use 
the  light  and  heat  which  its  vegetation  drew  from  the  solar  beams, 
as  if  for  the  very  purpose  of  fixing  them  until  he  should  find  the 
means  of  turning  them  to  account.     Looking  at  this  matter  from 


i8o  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

the  standpoint  afforded  by  the  "  correlation "  doctrine,  we  are 
led  to  question  whether  the  project  of  the  Laputan  sage  to  ex- 
tract sunbeams  from  cucumbers  was  so  very  chimerical  after  all , 
while  we  cannot  but  feel  an  increased  admiration  of  the  intuitive 
sagacity  of  that  remarkable  man  George  Stephenson,  who  Avas 
often  laughed  at  for  propounding  in  a  somewhat  crude  form  the 
very  idea  which  we  have  just  been  endeavouring  to  present  under 
a  more  philosophical  aspect. 

There  are  other  modes,  however,  in  which  the  living  animal 
restores  to  the  universe  the  forces  which  the  plant  took  from  it. 
Its  most  distinguishing  attribute  is  motion  ;  and  this  motion  being 
another  expression  of  force,  the  question  arises,  What  is  the  source 
of  that  force  ?  There,  again,  we  fall  back  on  the  plant,  both  for 
the  force,  and  for  the  material  of  the  structure  which  exerts  it. 
All  the  higher  forms  of  animal  motion  are  the  result  of  Muscular 
contraction  ;  and  physiologists  are  now  generally  agreed  in  the 
truth  of  the  statement  first  formally  enunciated  by  Liebig,  that 
every  act  of  muscular  contraction  involves  the  death  and  oxida- 
tion of  an  amount  of  muscular  substance  proportional  to  the  force 
exerted.  Hence  we  are  justified  in  regarding  the  motion  produced 
by  this  contraction  as  an  expression  of  the  vital  force  which  is 
superseded  by  chemical  action,  and  as  holding  the  same  relation 
to  that  chemical  action  which  the  voltaic  current  bears  to  the 
oxidation  of  the  zinc  in  the  battery.  Going  further  back,  we 
find  that  the  peculiar  nitrogenous  material  of  which  muscle  is 
composed,  though  organized  by  the  animal  under  the  agency 
already  explained,  is  really  generated  by  the  plant ;  and  that  its 
production  in  large  amount  may  be  regarded  as  the  highest  effort 
of  plant-life,  taking  place  as  it  does  only  under  the  most  favourable 
concurrence  of  conditions,  among  which  a  copious  supply  of  light 
and  heat  are  especially  required.  And  thus  we  may  say  that  the 
nitrogenous  constituents  of  plants  embody  a  high  degree  of  force, 
which  is  destined  ultimately  to  manifest  itself  in  the  sensible 
motions  of  animals.  And  it  is  a  curious  confirmation  of  this 
view,  that  if  these  substances  pass  into  decomposition  without 
being  organized  into  muscle,  they  set  free  a  large  amount  of 
chemical  force;  all  those  "ferments"  which  have  so  remarkable 
a  power  of  exciting  chemical  changes  in  other  organic  compounds, 
being  members  of  this  group. 


THE  P HAS  IS   OF  FORCE.  i8i 

The  highest  manifestation  of  animal  life,  however,  is  unques- 
tionably that  Nerve-force,  by  the  instrumentality  of  which  our 
consciousness  receives  its  impressions  of  phenomena  external  to 
it,  and  our  will  exerts  its  power  in  producing  motion  through  the 
instrumentality  of  the  muscular  apparatus.  Regarding  the  nature 
of  this  force  there  is  still  some  obscurity,  but  its  very  close  rela- 
tion to  electricity  cannot  be  doubted.  Though  many  most  eminent 
physicists  hold  that  they  are  identical,  we  regard  the  "correlation" 
doctrine  as  equally  accounting  for  all  those  facts  which  support 
such  a  view,  whilst  it  also  accords  with  others  which  seem  opposed 
to  it ;  and  we,  therefore,  prefer  to  consider  nervous  force  as  be- 
longing to  a  distinct  category.  As  its  source  lies,  like  that  of 
muscular  power,  in  the  chemical  changes  involved  in  the  death 
and  decomposition  of  the  peculiar  tissue  which  manifests  it,  we  trace 
it  back  ultimately  to  the  plant  which  generated  the  material  of  the 
tissue,  and  thence  to  the  light  and  heat  which  that  plant  received 
from  the  sun.  Although  the  most  obvious  exertion  of  this  force 
in  the  living  body  is  that  by  which  it  calls  forth  muscular  con- 
traction, yet  it  can  also  influence  in  a  very  marked  manner  the 
processes  of  nutrition  and  secretion ;  so  that  its  correlation  with 
the  general  organizing  force  is  exhibited  (as  in  the  case  of  elec- 
tricity and  chemical  action)  on  both  sides,  the  nervous  substance 
giving  up  its  characteristic  organization  whilst  developing  nerve- 
force,  and  that  nerve-force  being  transmitted  to  a  distant  part,  to 
be  applied  there  in  producing  or  modifying  organization.  It  is 
now  well  known  that  in  the  common  experiment  of  exciting 
muscular  contraction  by  galvanizing  a  motor  nerve,  the  galvanism 
does  not  act  directly  through  the  nerve  upon  the  muscle,  but 
excites  the  nerve-force  in  that  part  of  the  trunk  which  intervenes 
between  the  point  irritated  and  the  muscle  to  which  the  nerve  is 
distributed ;  and  in  like  manner,  when  sensation  is  called  forth  by 
the  application  of  the  electric  stimulus  to  the  sensory  nerve,  the 
effect  is  produced,  not  by  the  transmission  of  the  electric  current 
to  the  sensorium,  but  by  the  excitement  of  the  nerve-force  of  the 
part  of  the  trunk  which  proceeds  towards  it  from  the  point  irri- 
tated. And  as  the  converse  action  to  this  excitement  of  nerve-force 
by  electricity,  we  have  the  excitement  by  electricity  of  nerve-force 
in  the  electric  fishes  and  a  few  other  animals.    Certain  phenomena 


1 82  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

of  animal  heat  seem  to  indicate  that  nerve-force  may  directly 
produce  elevation  of  temperature,  and  there  are  forms  of  animal 
luminosity  which  do  not  appear  to  depend  upon  an  ordinary 
combustive  process,  but  which  rather  resemble  electric  scintil- 
lations and  seem  immediately  dependent  on  an  exertion  of  nerve- 
force.  Further,  the  pecuhar  influence  of  states  of  the  nervous 
system  upon  the  composition  of  various  secretions  can  only  be 
explained  by  supposing  that  nerve-force  has  a  direct  power  of 
modifying  chemical  action.  So  that  of  this,  the  highest  form  of 
vital  force,  all  the  material  manifestations  are  of  a  kind  that  bring 
us  back  again  into  the  region  of  physics  and  chemistry. 

But  there  is  another  aspect  under  which  we  have  to  view 
nerve-force — that  of  its  relation  to  mental  phenomena.  That  the 
excitement  of  this  force  in  a  certain  part  of  our  nervous  apparatus 
is  capable  of  producing  a  change  in  our  state  of  consciousness,  is 
the  only  explanation  that  can  be  offered  of  our  recipience  of 
Sensations  from  impressions  made  upon  our  organs  of  sense.  So, 
again,  that  the  state  of  mental  activity  which  we  term  the  Will, 
can  so  excite  the  nerve-force  of  the  central  organs  as  to  occasion 
its  transmission  to  the  muscular  apparatus,  is  the  only  explanation 
that  can  be  offered  of  our  power  of  voluntary  motion.  These  two 
simple  facts  seem  quite  adequate  to  establish  a  "  correlation  " 
between  nerve-force  and  mental  agency,  which  is  not  less  com- 
plete than  that  which  has  been  shown  to  exist  between  nerve- 
force  and  electricity ;  and  we  are  led  to  the  same  conclusion  by  a 
careful  appreciation  of  the  fact,  which  all  physiological  knowledge 
of  the  conditions  of  mental  activity  tends  to  establish,  that  this 
activity,  like  exertion  of  muscular  force,  can  only  be  sustained, 
as  man  is  at  present  constituted,  at  the  expense  of  the  death  and 
disintegration  of  the  nervous  substance.  This  idea  of  "  correla- 
tion "  once  started,  is  found  to  give  a  scientific  expression  to  a 
vast  mass  of  facts  demonstrative  of  the  intimate  connection 
between  body  and  mind,  which,  though  accepted  as  conformable 
to  the  universal  experience  of  mankind,  have  not  yet  found  their 
place  in  systematic  treatises  ;  since  they  occupy  that  "  debatable 
"ground"  between  metaphysics  and  physiology  which  the  votaries 
of  each  of  these  sciences,  far  from  wishing  to  claim  it  for  them- 
selves, are  desirous  to  cede  to  the  dwellers  on  the  other  side 


THE   P  HAS  IS    OF  FORCE.  183 

of  the  border.  Take,  for  example,  the  production  of  temporary 
insanity  by  intoxicatmg  agents,  on  the  one  hand  ;  the  influence 
of  the  emotions,  not  merely  on  the  quantity,  but  also  on  the 
quality,  of  the  secretions,  on  the  other.  These  are  unmistakable 
phenomena,  that  have  just  as  great  a  claim  to  be  examined  and 
accounted  for  as  those  of  ordinary  mental  or  corporeal  activity; 
and  which  have  yet  been  passed  by,  simply  because  no  one 
has  yet  been  able  to  suggest  any  other  than  a  "  material " 
explanation  of  them. 

We  shall  have  greatly  failed  in  our  purpose,  however,  if  we 
have  not  by  this  time  led  our  readers  to  perceive  how  com- 
plete is  the  distinction  between  matter  and  force,  and  how  close 
is  the  relation  between  force  and  mind.  Matter  is  in  no  case 
more  than  the  embodiment  or  instrument  of  force  ;  all  its  (so- 
called)  active  states  being  merely  the  manifestations  of  an  energy, 
which,  under  different  forms,  is  unceasingly  operative.  Nor  can 
it  be  fairly  said,  that  in  substituting  the  doctrine  of  force  for 
that  of  the  "  imponderables,"  we  are  only  setting  up  one  hypo- 
thetical entity  in  place  of  another.  Force  is  truly  more  of  a 
reality  to  us  than  matter  itself  5  for  we  cannot  become  cognisant 
even  of  the  most  fundamental  property  of  matter — its  occupation 
of  space — without  the  consciousness  of  resistance.  We  cannot,  it 
is  true,  isolate  force  from  matter ;  but  we  have  two  modes  of 
judging  of  it — one  objective,  the  other  subjective ;  one  based 
upon  observation  of  external  phenomena,  the  other  on  the  direct 
revelation  of  our  own  consciousness.  And  we  hold  it  to  be  by 
the  combination  of  both  sets  of  considerations  that  cur  truest  and 
most  definite  ideas  of  dynamical  agency  are  to  be  attained.  We 
are  conscious  of  the  exertion  of  a  power,  when  we  either  pro- 
duce or  resist  motion ;  whenever,  therefore,  we  see  bodies  in 
motion,  we  infer  that  only  by  a  like  exertion  of  power  could 
that  motion  have  originated  ;  so  when  the  retardation  of  motion 
gives  rise  to  heat,  or  heat  (in  ceasing  to  manifest  itself  as  such) 
gives  rise  to  expansive  force,  we  perceive  that  it  is  only  the 
manifestation  that  is  changed,  the  fundamental  power  remain- 
ing the  same.  And  as  we  are  thus  led  by  the  "  correlation " 
doctrine  to  consider  the  various  agencies  of  nature  as  the  ex- 
pression of  a  conscious  will,  we  find  the   highest  science  com- 


i84  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

pletely  according  with  the  highest  religion,  in  directing  us  to 
recognize  the  omnipresent  and  constantly  sustaining  energy  of 
a  personal  Deity  in  every  phenomenon  of  the  universe  around 
us — the  pantheistic  and  anthropomorphic  conceptions  of  His 
character  being  thus  brought  into  harmony,  when  we  view 
"Nature"  as  the  embodiment  of  the  Divine  volition,  the  "forces 
of  Nature "  as  so  many  diversified  modes  of  its  manifestation, 
and  the  "  laws  of  Nature "  as  nothing  but  man's  expressions 
of  the  uniformities  which  his  limited  observation  can  discern  in 
its  phenomena. 


VI. 

MAN  THE  INTERPRETER  OF  NATURE. 

[Presidential  Address  at  the   meeting  of  the  British   Association   for   the 
Advancement  of  Science,  Brighton,  1872.] 

My  Lords,  Ladies,  and  Gentlemen, — Thirty-six  years  have  now 
elapsed  since  at  the  first  and  (I  regret  to  say)  the  only  meeting  of 
this  Association  held  in  Bristol — which  Ancient  city  followed  im- 
mediately upon  our  national  Universities  in  giving  it  a  welcome — 
I  enjoyed  the  privilege  which  I  hold  it  one  of  the  most  valuable 
functions  of  these  annual  assemblages  to  bestow :  that  of  coming 
into  personal  relation  with  those  distinguished  men  whose  names 
are  to  every  cultivator  of  science  as  "  household  words,"  and  the 
light  of  whose  brilliant  example,  and  the  warmth  of  whose  cordial 
encouragement  are  the  most  precious  influences  by  which  his  own 
aspirations  can  be  fostered  and  directed.  Under  the  presidency 
of  the  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  with  Conybeare  and  Prichard  as 
vice-presidents,  with  Vernon  Harcourt  as  general  secretary,  and 
John  Phillips  as  assistant-secretary,  were  gathered  together  Whe- 
well  and  Peacock,  James  Forbes  and  Sir  W.  Rowan  Hamilton, 
Murchison  and  Sedgwick,  Buckland  and  De  la  Beche,  Henslow 
and  Daubeny,  Roget,  Richardson,  and  Edward  Forbes,  with  many 
others,  perhaps  not  le^s  distinguished,  of  whom  my  own  recollection 
is  less  vivid. 

In  his  honoured  old  age,  Sedgwick  still  retains,  in  the  academic 
home  of  his  life,  all  his  pristine  interest  in  whatever  bears  on  the 
advance  of  the  science  he  has  adorned  as  well  as  enriched ;  and 
Phillips  still  cultivates  with  all  his  old  enthusiasm  the  congenial 


1 86  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

soil  to  which  he  has  been  transplanted.  But  the  rest — our  fathers 
and  elder  brothers — "  Where  are  they  ?  "  It  is  for  us  of  the 
present  generation  to  show  that  they  live  in  our  lives  ;  to  carry 
forward  the  work  which  they  commenced ;  and  to  transmit  the 
influence  of  their  example  to  our  own  successors. 

There  is  one  of  these  great  men,  whose  departure  from  among 
us  since  last  we  met  claims  a  special  notice,  and  whose  life — full 
as  it  was  of  years  and  honours — we  should  have  all  desired  to  see 
prolonged  for  a  few  months,  could  its  feebleness  have  been  un- 
attended with  suffering.  For  we  should  all  then  have  sympathized 
with  Murchison,  in  the  delight  with  which  he  would  have  received 
the  intelligence  of  the  safety  of  the  friend  in  whose  scientific 
labours  and  personal  welfare  he  felt  to  the  last  the  keenest  interest. 
That  this  intelligence,  which  our  own  expedition  for  the  relief  of 
Livingstone  would  have  obtained  (we  will  hope)  a  few  months 
later,  should  have  been  brought  to  us  through  the  generosity  of 
one,  and  the  enterprising  ability — may  I  not  use  our  peculiarly 
English  word,  the  "  pluck  " — of  another  of  our  American  brethren, 
cannot  but  be  a  matter  of  national  regret  to  us.  But  let  us  bury 
that  regret  in  the  common  joy  which  both  nations  feel  in  the 
result ;  and  while  we  give  a  cordial  welcome  to  Mr.  Stanley,  let 
us  glory  in  the  prospect  now  opening,  that  England  and  America 
will  co-operate  in  that  noble  object  which — far  more  than  the 
discovery  of  the  sources  of  the  Nile — our  great  traveller  has  set 
before  himself  as  his  true  mission,  the  extinction  of  the  slave 
trade. 

At  the  last  meeting  of  this  association,  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
being  able  to  announce,  that  I  had  received  from  the  First  Lord 
of  the  Admiralty  a  favourable  reply  to  a  representation  I  had 
ventured  to  make  to  him,  as  to  the  importance  of  prosecuting  on 
a  more  extended  scale  the  course  of  inquiry  into  the  physical  and 
biological  conditions  of  the  deep  sea,  on  which,  with  my  colleagues 
Professor  Wyviile  Thomson  and  Mr.  J.  Gwyn  Jeffreys,  I  had  been 
engaged  for  the  three  preceding  years.  That  for  which  I  had 
asked  was  a  circumnavigating  expedition  of  at  least  three  years' 
duration,  provided  with  an  adequate  scientific  staff,  and  with  the 
most  complete  equipment  that  our  experience  could  devise.  The 
Council  of  the  Royal  Society  having  been  led  by  the  encouraging 


MAN   THE  INTERPRETER   OF  NATURE.  187 

tenor  of  the  answer  I  had  received,  to  make  a  formal  appHcation 
to  this  effect,  the  Hberal  arrangements  of  the  Government  have 
been  carried  out  under  the  advice  of  a  scientific  Committee,  which 
included  representatives  of  this  Association.  Her  Majesty's  ship 
Challenger,  a  vessel  in  every  way  suitable  for  the  purpose,  is  now 
being  fitted  out  at  Sheerness  ;  the  command  of  the  expedition  is 
intrusted  to  Captain  Nares,  an  officer  of  whose  high  qualifications 
I  have  myself  the  fullest  assurance ;  while  the  scientific  charge  of 
it  will  be  taken  by  my  excellent  friend  Professor  Wyville  Thomson, 
at  whose  suggestion  it  was  that  these  investigations  were  originally 
commenced,  and  whose  zeal  for  the  efficient  prosecution  of  them 
is  shown  by  his  relinquishment  for  a  time  of  the  important  academic 
position  he  at  present  fills.  It  is  anticipated  that  the  expedition 
will  sail  in  November  next ;  and  I  feel  sure  that  the  good  wishes 
of  all  of  you  will  go  along  with  it. 

The  confident  anticipation  expressed  by  my  predecessor,  that 
for  the  utilization  of  the  total  eclipse  of  the  sun  then  impending, 
our  Government  would  "  exercise  the  same  wise  liberality  as 
"  heretofore  in  the  interests  of  science,"  has  been  amply  fulfilled. 
An  eclipse-expedition  to  India  was  organized  at  the  charge  of  the 
Home  Government,  and  placed  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Lockyer; 
the  Indian  Government  contributed  its  quota  to  the  work ;  and  a 
most  valuable  body  of  results  was  obtained,  of  which,  with  those 
of  the  previous  year,  a  report  is  now  being  prepared  under  the 
direction  of  the  Council  of  the  Astronomical  Society. 

It  has  been  customary  with  successive  occupants  of  this  chair, 
distinguished  as  leaders  in  their  several  divisions  of  the  noble 
army  of  science,  to  open  the  proceedings  of  the  meetings  over 
which  they  respectively  presided,  with  a  discourse  on  some  aspect 
of  Nature  in  her  relation  to  man.  But  I  am  not  aware  that  any 
one  of  them  has  taken  up  the  other  side  of  the  inquiry — that 
which  concerns  man  as  the  "  Interpreter  of  Nature  ; "  and  I  have 
therefore  thought  it  not  inappropriate  to  lead  you  to  the  con- 
sideration of  the  mental  processes,  by  which  are  formed  those 
fundamental  conceptions  of  matter  and  force,  of  cause  and  effect, 
of  law  and  order,  which  furnish  the  basis  of  all  scientific  reasoning, 
and  constitute  the  Philosophia  prima  of  Bacon.     There  is  a  great 


i88  NATURE  AND  MAN 

deal  of  what  I  cannot  but  regard  as  fallacious  and  misleading 
philosophy — "  oppositions  of  science  falsely  so  called  " — abroad 
in  the  world  at  the  present  time.  And  I  hope  to  satisfy  you,  that 
those  who  set  up  their  own  conceptions  of  the  orderly  sequence 
which  they  discern  in  the  phenomena  of  Nature,  as  fixed  and 
determinate  Laws,  by  which  those  phenomena  not  only  ai-e  within 
all  human  experience,  but  always  have  been,  and  always  must  be, 
invariably  governed,  are  really  guilty  of  the  intellectual  arrogance 
they  condemn  in  the  systems  of  the  ancients,  and  place  themselves 
in  diametrical  antagonism  to  those  real  philosophers,  by  whose 
comprehensive  grasp  and  penetrating  insight  that  order  has  been 
so  far  disclosed.  For  what  love  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Nature  was 
ever  more  conspicuous,  than  that  which  Kepler  displayed,  in  his 
abandonment  of  each  of  the  ingenious  conceptions  of  the  planetary 
system  which  his  fertile  imagination  had  successively  devised,  so 
soon  as  it  proved  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  facts  disclosed  by 
observation  ?  In  that  almost  admiring  description  of  the  way  in 
which  his  eriemy  Mars,  "  whom  he  had  left  at  home  a  despised 
"  captive,"  had  "  burst  all  the  chains  of  the  equations,  and  broke 
"forth  from  the  prisons  of  the  tables,"  who  does  not  recognize  the 
justice  of  Schiller's  definition  of  the  real  philosopher,  as  one  who 
always  loves  truth  better  than  his  system  ?  And  when  at  last  he 
had  gained  the  full  assurance  of  a  success  so  complete  that  (as  he 
says)  he  thought  he  must  be  dreaming,  or  that  he  had  been 
reasoning  in  a  circle,  who  does  not  feel  the  almost  sublimity  of 
the  self  abnegation,  with  which,  after  attaming  what  was  in  his  own 
estimation  such  a  glorious  reward  of  his  life  of  toil,  disappoint- 
ment, and  self-sacrifice,  he  abstains  from  claiming  the  applause  of 
his  contemporaries,  but  leaves  his  fame  to  after-ages  in  these 
noble  words :  "  The  book  is  written  ;  to  be  read  either  now  or  by 
"  posterity,  I  care  not  which.  It  may  well  wait  a  century  for  a 
"  reader,  as  God  has  waited  six  thousand  years  for  an  observer." 

And  when  a  greater  than  Kepler  was  bringing  to  its  final  issue 
that  grandest  of  all  scientific  conceptions,  long  pondered  over 
by  his  almost  superhuman  intellect — which  linked  together  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  the  planets  and  the  sun,  the  primaries  and 
their  satellites,  and  included  even  the  vagrant  comets,  in  the  nexus 
of  a  universal  attraction — establishing  for  all  time  the  truth  for 


MAN    THE  INTERPRETER   OF  NATURE.  189 

whose  utterance  Galileo  had  been  condemned,  and  giving  to 
Kepler's  laws  a  significance  of  which  their  author  had  never 
dreamed, — what  was  the  meaning  of  that  agitation  which  pre- 
vented the  philosopher  from  completing  his  computation,  and 
compelled  him  to  hand  it  over  to  his  friend  ?  That  it  was  not 
the  thought  of  his  own  greatness,  but  the  glimpse  of  the  grand 
universal  order  thus  revealed  to  his  mental  vision,  which  shook 
the  serene  and  massive  soul  of  Newton  to  its  foundations,  we  have 
the  proof  in  that  beautiful  comparison  in  which  he  likened  himself 
to  a  child  picking  up  shells  on  the  shore  of  the  vast  ocean  of 
truth — a  comparison  which  will  be  evidence  to  all  time  at  once  of 
his  true  philosophy  and  of  his  profound  humility. 

Though  it  is  with  the  intellectual  representation  of  Nature 
which  we  call  science  that  we  are  primarily  concerned,  it  will  not 
be  without  its  use  to  cast  a  glance  in  the  first  instance  at  the  other 
two  principal  characters  under  which  man  acts  as  her  interpreter 
— those,  namely,  of  the  artist  and  of  the  poet. 

The  Artist  serves  as  the  interpreter  of  Nature,  not  when  he 
works  as  the  mere  copyist,  delineating  that  which  he  sees  with  his 
bodily  eyes,  and  which  we  could  see  as  well  for  ourselves ;  but 
when  he  endeavours  to  awaken  within  us  the  perception  of  those 
beauties  and  harmonies  which  his  own  trained  sense  has  recognized, 
and  thus  impart  to  us  the  pleasure  he  has  himself  derived  from 
their  contemplation.  As  no  two  artists  agree  in  the  original  con- 
stitution and  acquired  habits  of  their  minds,  all  look  at  Nature 
with  different  (mental)  eyes ;  so  that  to  each,  Nature  is  what  he 
individually  sees  in  her. 

The  Poet,  again,  serves  as  the  interpreter  of  Nature,  not  so 
much  when  by  skilful  word-painting  (whether  in  prose  or  verse  1 
he  calls  up  before  our  mental  vision  the  picture  of  some  actual  or 
ideal  scene,  however  beautiful ;  as  when,  by  rendering  into  appro- 
l)riate  forms  those  deeper  impressions  made  by  the  nature  around 
him  on  the  moral  and  emotional  part  of  his  own  nature,  he  transfers 
these  impressions  to  the  corresponding  part  of  ours.  For  it  xs  the 
attribute  of  the  true  poet  to  penetrate  the  secret  of  those  mysterious 
influences  which  we  all  unknowingly  experience ;  and  having  dis- 
covered this  to  himself,  to  bring  others,  by  the  power  he  thus 
wields,  into  the  like  sympathetic  relation  with  Nature — evoking 


igo  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

with  skilful  touch  the  varied  response  of  the  soul's  finest  chords, 
heightening  its  joys,  assuaging  its  griefs,  and  elevating  its  aspirations. 
Whilst,  then,  the  artist  aims  to  picture  what  he  sees  in  Nature,  it 
is  the  object  of  the  poet  to  represent  what  '^.t  feels  in  Nature  ;  and 
to  each  true  poet,  Nature  is  ivhat  he  individually  finds  in  her. 

The  Philosopher's  interpretation  of  Nature  seems  less  individual 
than  that  of  the  artist  or  the  poet,  because  it  is  based  on  facts 
which  any  one  may  verify,  and  is  elaborated  by  reasoning  pro- 
cesses of  which  all  admit  the  validity.  He  looks  at  the  universe 
as  a  vast  book  lying  open  before  him,  of  which  he  has  in  the  first 
place  to  learn  the  characters,  then  to  master  the  language,  and 
finally  to  apprehend  the  ideas  which  that  language  conveys.  In 
that  book  there  are  many  chapters,  treating  of  different  subjects;  and 
as  life  is  too  short  for  any  one  man  to  grasp  the  whole,  the  scientific 
interpretation  of  this  book  comes  to  be  the  work  of  many  intel- 
lects, differing,  not  merely  in  the  range,  but  also  in  the  character  of 
their  powers.  But  whilst  there  are  "  diversities  of  gifts,"  there  is 
"the  same  spirit."  While  each  takes  his  special  direction,  the 
general  method  of  study  is  the  same  for  all.  And  it  is  a  testimony 
alike  to  the  truth  of  that  method  and  to  the  unity  of  Nature,  that 
there  is  an  ever-increasing  tendency  towards  agreement  among 
those  who  use  it  aright — temporary  differences  of  interpretation 
being  removed,  sometimes  by  a  more  complete  mastery  of  her 
language,  sometimes  by  a  better  apprehension  of  her  ideas — and 
lines  of  pursuit  which  had  seemed  entirely  distinct  or  even  widely 
divergent,  being  found  to  lead  at  last  to  one  common  goal.  And 
it  is  this  agreement  which  gives  rise  to  the  general  belief — in  many, 
to  the  confident  assurance — that  the  scientific  interpretation  of 
Nature  represents  her,  not  merely  as  she  seems,  but  as  she  really  is. 

But  when  we  carefully  examine  the  foundation  of  that  assurance, 
we  find  reason  to  distrust  its  security ;  for  it  can  be  shown  to  be 
no  less  true  of  the  scientific  conception  of  Nature,  than  it  is  of  the 
artistic  or  the  poetic,  that  it  is  a  representation  framed  by  the  mind 
itself  ovil  of  the  materials  supplied  by  the  impressions  which  ex- 
ternal objects  make  upon  the  senses  ;  so  that  to  each  man  of 
science.  Nature  is  zvhat  he  individually  believes  her  to  be.  And  that 
belief  will  rest  on  very  diff'erent  bases,  and  will  have  very  unequal 
values,  in  different  departments  of  science.      Thus  in  what  are 


MAN  THE  INTERPRETER   OF  NATURE.  191 

commonly  known  as  the  "  exact  "  sciences,  of  which  astronomy 
may  be  taken  as  the  type,  the  data  afiforded  by  precise  methods 
of  observation  can  be  made  the  basis  of  reasoning,  in  every  step 
of  which  the  mathematician  feels  the  fullest  assurance  of  certainty  ; 
and  the  final  deduction  is  justified  either  by  its  conformity  to 
known  or  ascertainable  facts — as  when  Kepler  determined  the 
elliptic  orbit  of  Mars ;  or  by  the  fulfilment  of  the  predictions  it  has 
sanctioned — as  in  the  occurrence  of  an  eclipse  or  an  occultation 
at  the  precise  moment  specified  many  years  previously;  or,  still 
more  emphatically,  by  the  actual  discovery  of  phenomena  till  then 
unrecognized — as  when  the  perturbations  of  the  planets,  shown  by 
Newton  to  be  the  necessary  results  of  their  mutual  attraction,  were 
proved  by  observation  to  have  a  real  existence ;  or  as  when  the 
unknown  disturber  of  Uranus  was  found  in  the  place  assigned  to 
him  by  the  computations  of  Adams  and  Le  Verrier. 

We  are  accustomed,  and  I  think  most  rightly,  to  speak  of  these 
achievements  as  triumphs  of  the  human  intellect.  But  the  very 
phrase  implies  that  the  work  is  done  by  mental  agency.  And  even 
in  the  very  first  stage  of  the  process — the  interpretation  of  observations 
— there  is  often  a  liability  to  serious  error.  Of  this  we  have  a  most 
noteworthy  exam.ple  in  tlie  fact  that  the  estimated  distance  of  the 
earth  from  the  sun,  deduced  from  observations  of  the  last  transit 
of  Venus,  is  now  pretty  certainly  known  to  be  about  three  millions 
of  miles  too  great ;  the  strong  indications  of  such  an  excess  afforded 
by  the  nearly  coincident  results  of  other  modes  of  inquiry  having 
led  to  a  re-examination  of  the  record,  which  was  found,  when  fairly 
interpreted,  fully  to  justify — if  not  even  to  require — the  reduc- 
tion. Even  the  verification  of  the  prediction  is  far  from  proving 
the  intellectual  process  by  which  it  was  made  to  have  been  correct. 
For  we  learn  from  the  honest  confessions  of  Kepler,  that  he  was 
led  to  the  discovery  of  the  elliptic  orbit  of  Mars  by  a  series  of 
happy  accidents,  which  turned  his  erroneous  guesses  into  the  right 
direction  ;  and  to  that  of  the  passage  of  the  radius  vector  over 
equal  areas  in  equal  times,  by  the  notion  of  a  whirling  force  ema- 
nating from  the  sun,  which  we  now  regard  as  an  entirely  wrong 
conception  of  the  cause  of  orbital  revolution.*     It  should  always 

♦  See  Drinkwater's  "  Life  of  Kepler,"  in  the  Library  of  Useful  Knowledge, 
pp.  26-35. 


193  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

be  remembered,  moreover,  that  the  Ptolemaic  system  of  astronomy, 
with  all  its  cumbrous  ideal  mechanism  of  "  centric  and  excentric, 
"  cycle  and  epicycle,  orb  in  orb,"  did  intellectually  represent  all 
that  the  astronomer,  prior  to  the  invention  of  the  telescope,  could 
see  from  his  actual  standpoint,  the  earth,  with  an  accuracy  which 
was  proved  by  the  fulfilment  of  his  predictions.  And  in  that  last 
and  most  memorable  anticipation  which  has  given  an  imperishable 
fame  to  our  two  illustrious  contemporaries,  the  inadequacy  of  the 
basis  afforded  by  actual  observation  of  the  perturbations  of  Uranus, 
required  that  it  should  be  supplemented  by  an  assumption  of  the 
probable  distance  of  the  disturbing  planet  beyond,  which  has  been 
shown  by  subsequent  observation  to  have  been  only  an  approxi- 
mation to  the  truth. 

Even  in  this  most  exact  of  sciences,  therefore,  we  cannot  pro- 
ceed a  step,  without  translating  the  actual  phenomena  of  Nature 
into  intellectual  representations  of  those  phenomena  ;  and  it  is 
because  the  Newtonian  conception  is  not  only  the  most  simple, 
but  is  also,  up  to  the  extent  of  our  present  knowledge,  universal 
m  its  conformity  to  the  facts  of  observation,  that  we  accept  it  as 
the  only  scheme  of  the  universe  yet  promulgated,  which  satisfies 
our  intellectual  requirements. 

When,  under  the  reign  of  the  Ptolemaic  system,  any  new  in- 
equality was  discovered  in  the  motion  of  a  planet,  a  new  wheel 
had  to  be  added  to  the  ideal  mechanism,  as  Ptolemy  said,  "  to 
"  save  appearances."  If  it  should  prove,  a  century  hence,  that  the 
motion  of  Neptune  himself  is  disturbed  by  some  other  attraction 
than  that  exerted  by  the  interior  planets,  we  should  confidently 
expect  that  not  an  ideal  but  a  real  cause  for  that  disturbance  will 
be  found  in  the  existence  of  another  planet  beyond.  But  I  trust 
that  I  have  now  made  it  evident  to  you,  that  this  confident  ex- 
pectation is  not  justified  by  any  absolute  necessity  of  Nature,  but 
arises  entirely  out  of  our  belief  in  her  uniformity ;  and  into  the 
grounds  of  this  and  other  primary  beliefs,  which  serve  as  the 
foundation  of  all  scientific  reasoning,  we  shall  presently  inquire. 

There  is  another  class  of  cases,  in  which  an  equal  certainty  is 
generally  claimed  for  conclusions  that  seem  to  flow  immediately 
from  observed  facts,  though  really  evolved  by  intellectual  pro- 
cesses ;  the  apparent  simplicity  and  directness  of  those  processes 


MAN  THE  INTERPRETER    OF  NATURE.  193 

either  causing  them  to  be  entirely  overlooked,  or  veiling  the  as- 
sunnptions  on  which  they  are  based.  Thus  Mr.  Lockyer  speaks  as 
confidently  of  the  sun's  chromosphere  of  incandescent  hydrogen, 
and  of  the  local  outbursts  which  cause  it  to  send  forth  projections 
tens  of  thousands  of  miles  high,  as  if  he  had  been  able  to  capture 
a  flask  of  this  gas,  and  had  generated  water  by  causing  it  to  unite 
with  oxygen.  Yet  this  confidence  is  entirely  based  on  the  as- 
sumption, that  a  certain  line  which  is  seen  in  the  spectrum  of  a 
hydrogen  flame,  means  hydrogen  also  when  seen  in  the  spectrum 
of  the  sun's  chromosphere  ;  and  high  as  is  the  probability  of  that 
assumption,  it  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  demonstrated  certainty, 
since  it  is  by  no  means  inconceivable  that  the  same  line  fiiight  be 
produced  by  some  other  substance  at  present  unknown.  And  so 
when  Dr.  Huggins  deduces  from  the  different  relative  positions 
of  certain  lines  in  the  spectra  of  different  stars,  that  these  stars 
are  moving  from  or  towards  us  in  space,  his  admirable  train  of 
reasoning  is  based  on  the  assumption  that  these  lines  have  the  same 
meaning — that  is,  that  they  represent  the  same  elements — in  every 
luminary.  That  assumption,  like  the  preceding,  may  be  regarded 
as  possessing  a  sufficiently  high  probability  to  justify  the  reasoning 
based  upon  it ;  more  especially  since,  by  the  other  researches  of 
that  excellent  observer,  the  same  chemical  elements  have  been 
detected  as  vapours  in  those  filmy  cloudlets  which  seem  to  be 
stars  in  an  early  stage  of  consolidation.  But  when  Frankland  and 
Lockyer,  seeing  in  the  spectrum  of  the  yellow  solar  prominences 
a  certain  bright  line  not  identifiable  with  that  of  any  known  ter- 
restrial flame,  attribute  this  to  a  hypothetical  new  substance  which 
they  propose  to  call  Helium,  it  is  obvious  that  their  assump- 
tion rests  on  a  far  less  secure  foundation  ;  until  it  shall  have 
received  that  verification,  which,  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Crookes's 
researches  on  Thallium,  was  afforded  by  the  actual  discovery 
of  the  new  metal,  whose  presence  had  been  indicated  to  him  by 
a  line  in  the  spectrum  not  attributable  to  any  substance  then 
known. 

In  a  large  number  of  other  cases,  moreover,  our  scientific  inter- 
pretations are  clearly  matters  of  yW-,'-;//^///;  and  this  is  eminently 
d.  personal  act,  the  value  of  its  results  depending  in  each  case  upon 
the  qualifications  of  the  individual  for  arriving  at  a  correct  decision. 


194  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

The  surest  of  such  judgments  are  those  dictated  by  what  we  term 
"  common  sense,"  as  to  matters  on  which  there  seems  no  room  for 
difference  of  opinion,  because  every  sane  person  comes  to  the 
same  conclusion,  although  he  may  be  able  to  give  no  other  reason 
for  it  than  that  it  appears  to  him  "  self-evident."  Thus  while  philo- 
sophers have  raised  a  thick  cloud  of  dust  in  the  discussion  ot  the 
basis  of  our  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  world  external  to  ourselves 
— of  the  Non-Ego,  as  distinct  from  the  Ego — and  while  every 
logician  claims  to  have  found  some  liaw  in  the  proof  advanced  by 
every  other — the  common  sense  of  mankind  has  arrived  at  a 
decision  that  is  practically  worth  all  the  arguments  of  all  the 
philosophers  who  have  fought  again  and  again  over  this  battle- 
ground. And  I  think  it  can  be  shown  that  the  trustworthiness 
of  this  common  sense  decision  arises  from  its  dependence,  not  on 
any  one  set  of  experience,  but  upon  our  unconscious  co-ordination 
of  the  whole  aggregate  of  our  experiences — not  on  the  conclusiveness 
of  any  one  train  of  reasoning,  but  on  the  convergence  of  all  our 
lines  of  thought  towards  this  one  centre. 

Now  this  "  common  sense,"  disciplined  and  enlarged  by  appro- 
priate culture,  becomes  one  of  our  most  valuable  instruments  of 
scientific  inquiry  ;  affording  in  many  instances  the  best,  and  some- 
times the  only,  basis  for  a  rational  conclusion.  Let  us  take  as  a 
typical  case,  in  which  no  special  knowledge  is  required,  what  we 
are  accustomed  to  call  the  "  flint  implements  "  of  the  Abbeville 
and  Amiens  gravel-beds.  No  logical  proof  can  be  adduced  that 
the  peculiar  shapes  of  these  flints  were  given  to  them  by  human 
hands;  but  does  any  unprejudiced  person  now  doubt  it?  The 
evidence  of  design^  to  which,  after  an  examination  of  one  or  two 
such  specimens,  we  should  only  be  justified  in  attaching  aprobable 
value,  derives  an  irresistible  cogency  from  accumulation.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  ////probability  that  these  flints  acquired  their 
peculiar  shape  by  accidetit,  becomes  to  our  minds  greater  and 
greater  as  more  and  more  such  specimens  are  found ;  until  at  last 
this  hypothesis,  although  it  cannot  be  directly  disproved,  is  felt  to 
be  almost  inconceivable,  except  by  minds  previously  "  possessed  " 
by  the  "  dominant  idea  "  of  the  modern  origin  of  man.  And  thus 
what  was  in  the  first  instance  a  matter  of  discussion,  has  now 
become  one  of  those  "  self-evident "  propositions,  which  claim  the 


MAN   THE  INTERPRETER    OF  NATURE.         195 

unhesitating  assent  of  all  whose  opinion  on  the  subject  is  entitled 
to  the  least  weight. 

We  proceed  upward,  however,   from  such  questions  as  the 
common  sense  of  mankind  generally  is  competent  to  decide,  to 
those  in  which  special  knowledge  is  required  to  give  value  to  the 
judgment ;  and  thus  the  interpretation  of  Nature  by  the  use  of 
that    faculty  comes   to  be  more   and   more   individual ;    things 
being  perfectly  "  self-evident "  to  men  of  special  culture,  which 
ordinary  men,    or  men  whose    training   has  lain  in  a   different 
direction,  do   not  apprehend  as  such.       Of  all  departments  of 
science,  geology  seems  to  me  to  be  the  one  that  most  depends  on 
this  specially-trained  "  common  sense ; "  which  brings  as  it  were 
into  one  focus  the  light  afforded  by  a  great  variety  of  studies — 
physical  and  chemical,  geographical  and  biological ;  and  throws 
it  on  the  pages  of  that  great  stone  book,  on  which  the  past  history 
of  our  globe  is  recorded.     And  whilst  astronomy  is  of  all  sciences 
that  which  may  be  considered  as  most  nearly  representing  Nature 
as  she  really  is,  geology  is  that  which  most  completely  represents 
her  as  seen  through  the  medium  of  the  interpreting  mind  ;  the 
meaning  of  the  phenomena  that  constitute  its  data  being  in  almost 
every  instance  open  to  question,  and  the  judgments  passed  upon 
the  same  facts  being  often  different  according  to  the  qualifications 
of  the  several  judges.    No  one  who  has  even  a  general  acquaintance 
with  the  history  of  this  department  of  science  can  fail  to  see  that 
the  geology  of  each  epoch  has  been  the  reflection  of  the  minds  by 
which  its  study  was  then  directed ;  and  that  its  true  progress  dates 
from  the  time  when  that  "  common  sense  "  method  of  interpreta- 
tion came  to  be  generally  adopted,  which  consists  in  seeking  the 
explanation  of  past  changes  in  the  forces  at  present  in  operation, 
instead   of    invoking   the   aid   of  extraordinary   and  mysterious 
agencies,  as  the  older  geologists  were  wont  to  do,  whenever  they 
wanted— like  the  Ptolemaic  astronomers — "to  save  appearances." 
The  whole  tendency  of  the  ever-widening  range  of  modern  geo- 
logical inquiry  has  been  to  show  how  little  reliance  can  be  placed 
upon  the  so-called  "  laws  "  of  stratigraphical  and  palasontological 
succession,  and  how  much  allowance  has  to  be  made  for  local 
conditions.     So  that  while  the  astronomer  is  constantly  enabled 
to  point  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  predictions  as  an  evidence  of  the 


196  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

correctness  of  his  method,  the  geologist  is  almost  entirely  destitute 
of  any  such  means  of  verification.  For  the  value  of  any  prediction 
that  he  may  hazard — as  in  regard  to  the  existence  or  non-existence 
of  coal  in  any  given  area — depends  not  only  upon  the  truth  of  the 
general  doctrines  of  geology  in  regard  to  the  succession  of  stratified 
deposits,  but  still  more  upon  the  detailed  knowledge  which  he  may 
have  acquired  of  the  distribution  of  those  deposits  in  the  particular 
locality.  Hence  no  reasonably-judging  man  would  discredit  either 
the  general  doctrines  or  the  methods  of  geology,  because  the  pre- 
diction proves  untrue  in  such  a  case  as  that  now  about  to  be 
brought  in  this  neighbourhood  to  the  trial  of  experience. 

We  have  thus  considered  man's  function  as  the  scientific  in- 
terpreter of  Nature  in  two  departments  of  natural  knowledge  ; 
one  of  which  affords  an  example  of  the  strictest,  and  the  other 
of  the  freest  method,  which  man  can  employ  in  constructing  his 
intellectual  representation  of  the  universe.  And  as  it  would  be 
found  that  in  the  study  of  all  other  departments  the  same  methods 
are  used,  either  separately  or  in  combination,  we  may  pass  at  once 
to  another  part  of  our  inquiry. 

The  whole  fabric  of  geometry  rests  upon  certain  axioms  which 
every  one  accepts  as  true,  but  of  which  it  is  necessary  that  the 
truth  should  be  assumed,  because  they  are  incapable  of  demon- 
stration. So,  too,  the  deliverances  of  our  "common  sense"  derive 
their  trustworthiness  from  what  we  consider  the  "  self-evidence  " 
of  the  propositions  affirmed.  There  are,  then,  certain  primary 
beliefs,  which  constitute  the  groundwork  of  all  scientific  reasoning ; 
and  we  have  next  to  inquire  into  their  origin. 

This  inquiry  brings  us  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  great 
philosophical  problems  of  our  day,  which  has  been  discussed  by 
logicians  and  metaphysicans  of  the  very  highest  ability  as  leaders 
of  opposing  schools,  with  the  one  result  of  showing  how  much  can 
be  said  on  each  side.  By  the  intuitionalists,  it  is  asserted  that  the 
tendency  to  form  these  primary  beliefs  is  inborn  in  man,  an  original 
part  of  his  mental  organization ;  so  that  they  grow  up  spontaneously 
in  his  mind  as  its  faculties  are  gradually  unfolded  and  developed, 
requiring  no  other  experience  for  their  genesis,  than  that  which 
suffices  to  call  these  faculties  into  exercise.     But  by  the  advocates 


MAN   THE   INTERPRETER    OF  NATURE.         197 

of  the  doctrine  which  regards  experience  as  the  basis  of  all  our 
knowledge,  it  is  maintained  that  the  primary  beliefs  of  each  in- 
dividual are  nothing  else  than  generalizations  which  he  forms  of 
such  experiences  as  he  has  either  himself  acquired  or  has  consci- 
ously learned  from  others  ;  and  they  deny  that  there  is  any  original 
or  intuitive  tendency  to  the  formation  of  such  beliefs,  beyond 
that  which  consists  in  the  power  of  retaining  and  generalizing 
experiences. 

I  have  not  introduced  this  subject  with  any  idea  of  placing 
before  you  even  a  summary  of  the  ingenious  arguments  by  which 
these  opposing  doctrines  have  been  respectively  supported ;  nor 
should  I  have  touched  on  the  question  at  all,  if  I  did  not  believe 
that  a  means  of  reconcilement  between  them  can  be  found  in  the 
idea,  that  the  intellectual  intuitions  of  any  oiie  generation  are  the 
embodied  experiences  of  the  previous  race.  For,  as  it  appears  to  me, 
there  has  been  a  progressive  improvement  in  the  thinking  pozver 
of  man  ;  every  product  of  the  culture  which  has  preceded  serving 
to  prepare  the  soil  for  yet  more  abundant  harvests  in  the  future. 

Now,  as  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  hereditary  transmission 
in  man  of  acquired  constitutional  peculiarities,  which  manifest 
themselves  alike  in  tendencies  to  bodily  and  to  mental  disease,  so 
it  seems  equally  certain  that  acquired  mental  habitudes  often  im- 
press themselves  on  his  organization,  with  sufficient  force  and 
permanence  to  occasion  their  transmission  to  the  offspring  as 
tendencies  to  similar  modes  of  thought.  And  thus,  while  all  admit 
that  knowledge  cannot  thus  descend  from  one  generation  to 
another,  an  increased  aptitude  for  the  acquirement,  either  of  know- 
ledge generally,  or  of  some  particular  kind  of  it,  may  be  thus  in- 
herited. These  tendencies  and  aptitudes  will  acquire  additional 
strength,  expansion,  and  permanence,  in  each  new  generation, 
from  their  habitual  exercise  upon  the  materials  supplied  by  a  con- 
tinually enlarged  experience;  and  thus  the  acquired  habitudes 
produced  by  the  intellectual  culture  of  ages,  will  become  a 
"  second  nature  "  to  every  one  who  inherits  them.* 

*  This  doctrine  was  first  explicitly  put  forth  by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer ;  in 
whose  iihilosojihical  treatises  it  will  he  found  inost  ably  developed.  I  am  glad 
to  be  able  to  append  the  foUowint;  extract  from  a  letter  which  Mr.  John  Mill, 
the  great  master  of  the  experiential  school,  was  good  enough  to  write  to  me 
a  few  months  since,   with  reference   to  the  attempt   I  had   made   to  place 


198  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

We  have  an  illustration  of  this  progress  in  the  fact  of  continual 
occurrence,  that  conceptions  which  prove  inadmissible  to  the 
minds  of  one  generation,  in  consequence  either  of  their  want  of 
intellectual  power  to  apprehend  them,  or  of  their  preoccupation  by 
older  habits  of  thought,  subsequently  find  a  universal  acceptance, 
and  even  come  to  be  approved  as  "  self-evident."  Thus  the  first 
law  of  motion,  divined  by  the  genius  of  Newton,  though  opposed 
by  many  philosophers  of  his  time  as  contrary  to  all  experience,  is 
now  accepted  by  common  consent,  not  merely  as  a  legitimate  in- 
ference from  experiment,  but  as  the  expression  of  a  necessary  and 
universal  truth  ;  and  the  same  axiomatic  value  is  extended  to  the 
still  more  general  doctrine,  that  energy  of  any  kind,  whether  mani- 
fested in  the  "  molar "  motion  of  masses,  or  consisting  in  the 
"molecular"  motions  of  atoms,  must  continue  under  some  form 
or  other  without  abatement  or  decay  ;  what  all  admit  in  regard  to 
the  indestructibility  of  matter,  being  accepted  as  no  less  true  of 
force,  namely,  that  as  ex  nihilo  nil  jit,  so  nil  fit  ad  7iihilum* 

But,  it  may  be  urged,  the  very  conception  of  these  and  similar 
great  truths  is  in  itself  a  typical  example  of  intuition.  The  men 
who  divined  and  enunciated  them  stand  out  above  their  fellows, 
as  possessed  of  a  genius  which  could  not  only  combine  but  create, 
of  an  insight  which  could  clearly  discern  what  reason  could  but 
dimly  shadow  forth.  Granting  this  freely,  I  think  it  may  be  shown 
that  the  intuitions  of  individual  genius  are  but  specially  exalted 
forms  of  endowments  which  are  the  general  property  of  the  race 

"common  sense"  upon  this  basis  (Coufciaf'orary  Revi-ew,  February,  1S72)  : — 
"  When  st.ites  of  mind  in  no  respect  innate  or  instinctive  have  been  frequently 
"  repeated,  the  mind  acquires,  as  is  proved  by  the  power  of  habit,  a  greatly 
•  increased  facility  of  passing  into  those  states  ;  and  this  increased  facility  must 
"be  owing  to  some  change  of  a  physical  character  in  the  organic  action  of  the 
"brain.  There  is  also  considerable  evidence  that  such  acquired  facilities  of 
"passing  into  certain  modes  of  cerebral  action  can,  in  many  cases,  be  trans- 
"mitted,  more  or  less  completely,  by  inheritance.  The  limits  of  this  power 
"of  transmission,  and  the  conditions  on  which  it  depends,  are  a  subject  now 
"  fairly  before  the  scientific  world  ;  and  we  shall  doubtless  in  time  know  much 
"more  about  them  than  we  do  now.  But  so  far  as  my  imperfect  knowledge 
"of  the  subject  qualifies  me  to  have  an  opinion,  I  take  much  the  same  view  of 
"it  that  you  do,  at  least  in  principle." 

*  This  is  the  form  in  which  the  doctrine  now  known  as  that  of  the  "Con- 
servation of  Energy  "  was  enunciated  by  Dr.  Mayer,  in  the  very  remarkable 
essay  published  by  him  in  1S45,  entitled,  "  Die  organische  Eewegung  in  ihrem 
Zusainmenhange  mit  dem  Stolfwechsel." 


MAN  THE   INTERPRETER   OF  NATURE.         199 

at  the  time,  and  which  have  come  to  be  so  in  virtue  of  its  whole 
previous  culture.  Who,  for  example,  could  refuse  to  the  marvel- 
lous aptitude  for  perceiving  the  relations  of  numbers,  which  dis- 
played itself  ill  the  untutored  boyhood  of  George  Bidder  and  Zerah 
Colburn,  the  title  of  an  intuitive  gift  ?  But  who,  on  the  other  hand, 
can  believe  that  a  Bidder  or  a  Colburn  could  suddenly  arise  in  a 
race  of  savages  who  cannot  count  beyond  five  ?  Or,  again,  iu  the 
history  of  the  very  earliest  years  of  Mozart,  who  can  fail  to  recognize 
the  dawn  of  that  glorious  genius,  whose  brilliant  but  brief  career 
left  its  imperishable  impress  on  the  art  it  enriched  ?  But  who 
would  be  bold  enough  to  affirm  that  an  infant  Mozart  could  be 
born  amongst  a  tribe,  whose  only  musical  instrument  is  a  tom-tom, 
whose  only  song  is  a  monotonous  chant  ? 

Again,  by  tracing  the  gradual  genesis  of  some  of  those  ideas 
which  we  now  accept  as  "  self-evident," — such,  for  example,  as 
that  of  the  "uniformity  of  Nature" — we  are  able  to  recognize  them 
as  the  expressions  of  certain  intellectual  tendencies,  which  have 
progressively  augmented  in  force  in  successive  generations,  and 
now  manifest  themselves  as  acquired  mental  instincts  that  pene- 
trate and  direct  our  ordinary  course  of  thought.  Such  instincts 
constitute  a  precious  heritage,  which  has  been  transmitted  to  us 
with  ever-increasing  value  through  the  long  succession  of  preceding 
generations ;  and  which  it  is  for  us  to  transmit  to  those  who  shall 
come  after  us,  with  all  that  further  increase  which  our  higher  culture 
and  wider  range  of  knowledge  can  impart. 

And  noAv,  having  studied  the  working  action  of  the  human 
intellect  in  the  scientific  interpretation  of  Nature,  we  shall  examine 
the  general  character  of  its  products ;  and  the  first  of  these  with 
which  we  shall  deal  is  our  conception  of  tnatter  and  of  its  relation 
to  force. 

The  psychologist  of  the  present  day  views  matter  entirely 
through  the  light  of  his  own  consciousness  :  his  idea  of  matter  in 
the  abstract  being  that  it  is  a  "something"  which  has  a  permanent 
power  of  exciting  sensations ;  his  idea  of  any  "property  "  of  matter 
being  the  mental  representation  of  some  kind  of  sensory  impres- 
sion he  has  received  from  it;  and  his  idea  of  any  particular  kind 
of  matter  being  the  representation  of  the  whole  aggregate  of  the 


2O0  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

sense-perceptions  which  its  presence  has  called  up  in  his  mind. 
Thus  when  I  press  my  hand  against  this  table,  I  recognize  its  un- 
yieldingness through  the  conjoint  medium  of  my  sense  of  touch, 
my  muscular  sense,  and  my  mental  sense  of  effort,  to  which  it  will 
be  convenient  to  give  the  general  designation  of  the  tactile  sense  ; 
and  I  attribute  to  that  table  a  hardness  which  resists  the  effort  I 
make  to  press  my  hand  into  its  substance,  whilst  I  also  recognize 
the  fact  that  the  force  I  have  employed  is  not  sufficient  to  move 
its  mass.  But  I  press  my  hand  against  a  lump  of  dough;  and 
finding  that  its  substance  yields  under  my  pressure,  I  call  it  soft. 
Or  again,  I  press  my  hand  against  this  desk ;  and  I  find  that 
although  I  do  not  thereby  change  \isform,  I  change  \\.s  place  ;  and 
so  I  get  the  tactile  idea  of  motion.  Again,  by  the  impressions 
received  through  the  same  sensorial  apparatus,  when  I  lift  this 
book  in  my  hand,  I  am  led  to  attach  to  it  the  notion  oi  7v eight  or 
ponderosity  ;  and  by  lifting  different  solids  of  about  the  same  size, 
I  am  enabled,  by  the  different  degrees  of  exertion  I  find  myself 
obliged  to  make  in  order  to  sustain  them,  to  distinguish  some  of 
them  as  light,  and  others  as  heavy.  Through  the  medium  of 
another  set  of  sense-perceptions  which  some  regard  as  belonging 
to  a  different  category,  we  distinguish  between  bodies  that  feel 
"  hot  "  and  those  that  feel  "  cold  ;  "  and  in  this  manner  we  arrive 
at  the  notion  of  differences  of  temperature.  And  it  is  through  the 
medium  of  our  tactile  sense,  without  any  aid  from  vision,  that  we 
first  gain  the  idea  of  solid  form,  or  the  three  dimensions  of  space. 

Again,  by  the  extension  of  our  tactile  experiences,  we  acquire 
the  notion  oi  liquids,  as  forms  of  matter  yielding  readily  to  pressure, 
but  possessing  a  sensible  weight  which  may  equal  that  of  solids : 
and  of  air,  whose  resisting  power  is  much  slighter,  and  whose 
weight  is  so  small  that  it  can  only  be  made  sensible  by  artificial 
means.  Thus,  then,  we  arrive  at  the  notions  of  resistance  and  of 
weight  as  properties  common  to  all  forms  of  matter ;  and  now  that 
we  have  got  rid  of  that  idea  of  light  and  heat,  electricity  and 
magnetism,  as  "  imponderable  fluids,"  which  used  to  vex  our  souls 
in  our  scientific  childhood,  and  of  which  the  popular  term  "  electric 
fluid  "  is  a  "  survival,"  we  accept  these  properties  as  affording  the 
practical  distinction  between  the  "  material"  and  the  "  immaterial." 

Turning,  now,   to  that  other  great  portal  of  sensation,  the 


MAN  THE  INTERPRETER   OF  NATURE.         201 

sight,  through  which  we  receive  most  of  the  messages  sent  to  us 
from  the  universe  around,  we  recognize  the  same  truth.  Thus  it 
is  agreed  aUke  by  physicists  and  physiologists,  that  colour  does 
not  exist  as  such  in  the  object  itself;  which  has  merely  the  power 
of  reflecting  or  transmitting  a  certain  number  of  millions  of  un- 
dulations in  a  second  ;  and  these  only  produce  that  affection  of 
our  consciousness  which  we  call  colour,  when  they  fall  upon  the 
retina  of  the  living  percipient.  And  if  there  be  that  defect  either 
in  the  retina  or  in  the  apparatus  behind  it,  which  we  call  "  colour- 
blindness "  or  Daltonism,  some  particular  hues  cannot  be  dis- 
tinguished, or  there  may  even  be  no  power  of  distinguishing  any 
colour  whatever.  If  we  were  all  like  Dalton,  we  should  see  no 
difference,  except  in  form,  between  ripe  cherries  hanging  on  a 
tree,  and  the  green  leaves  around  them  :  if  we  were  all  affected 
with  the  severest  form  of  colour-blindness,  the  fair  face  of  Nature 
would  be  seen  by  us  as  in  the  chiaroscuro  of  an  engraving  of  one 
of  Turner's  landscapes,  not  as  in  the  glowing  hues  of  the  wondrous 
picture  itself  And  in  regard  to  our  visual  conceptions  it  may  be 
stated  with  perfect  certainty,  as  the  result  of  very  numerous 
observations  made  upon  persons  who  have  acquired  sight  for  the 
first  time,  that  these  do  fiot  serve  for  the  recognition  even  of  those 
objects  with  which  the  individual  had  become  most  familiar 
through  the  touch,  until  the  two  sets  of  sense- perceptions  have 
been  co-ordinated  by  experience.* 

When  once  this  co-ordination  has  been  effected,  however,  the 
composite  perception  of  form  which  we  derive  from  the  visual 
sense  alone  is  so  complete,  that  we  seldom  require  to  fall  back 
upon  the  touch  for  any  further  information  respecting  that  quality 
of  the  object. — So,  again,  while  it  is  from  the  co-ordination  of  the 
two  dissimilar  pictures  formed  by  any  solid  or  projecting  object 
upon  our  two  retince,  that  (as  Sir  Charles  VVheatstone's  admirable 
investigations  have  shown)  we  ordinarily  derive  through  the  sight 

*  Thus,  in  a  recently  recorded  case  in  which  sight  was  imparted  by  opera- 
tion to  a  young  woman  who  had  been  bhnd  from  birth,  but  who  had  never- 
theless learned  to  work  well  with  her  needle,  when  the  pair  of  scissors  she 
had  been  accustomed  to  use  was  placed  before  her,  though  she  described 
their  shape,  colour,  and  glistening  metallic  character,  she  was  utterly  unable 
to  recognize  them  as  scissors  until  she  put  her  finger  on  them,  when  she  at 
once  named  them,  laughing  at  her  own  stupidity  (as  she  called  it)  in  not 
having  made  them  out  before. 


202  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

alone  a  correct  notion  of  its  so/id  form,  there  is  adequate  evidence 
that  this  notion,  also,  is  a  menta.\  judgme/if  based  on  the  experience 
we  have  acquired  in  early  infancy  by  the  consentaneous  exercise 
of  the  vis'aal  and  tactile  senses. 

Take,  again,  the  case  of  those  wonderful  instruments  by  which 
our  visual  range  is  extended  almost  into  the  infinity  of  space,  or 
into  the  infinity  of  minuteness.  It  is  the  mental  not  the  bodily 
eye,  that  takes  cognizance  of  what  the  telescope  and  microscope 
reveal  to  us.  For  we  should  have  no  well-grounded  confidence 
in  their  revelations  as  to  the  unknown,  if  we  had  not  first  acquired 
experience  in  distinguishing  the  true  from  the  false  by  applying 
them  to  known  objects  ;  and  every  interpretation  of  what  we  see 
through  their  instrumentality  is  a  mental  Judgment  as  to  the  prob- 
able form,  size,  and  movement  of  bodies  removed  by  either  their 
distance  or  their  minuteness  from  being  cognosced  by  our  tactile 
sense. 

The  case  is  still  stronger  in  regard  to  that  last  addition  to 
our  scientific  annamentum,  which  promises  to  be  not  inferior  in 
value  either  tc^he  telescope  or  the  microscope;  for  it  may  be  truly 
said  of  the  spectroscope,  that  it  has  not  merely  extended  the  range 
of  our  vision,  but  has  almost  given  us  a  new  sense,  by  enabling 
us  to  recognize  disdnctive  properties  in  the  chemical  elements 
which  were  previously  quite  unknown.  And  who  shall  now  say 
that  we  know  all  that  is  to  be  known  as  to  any  form  of  matter ; 
or  that  the  science  of  the  fourtk  quarter  of  this  century  may  not 
furnish  us  with  as  great  an  enlargement  of  our  knowledge  of  its 
properties,  and  of  our  power  of  recognizing  them,  as  that  of  its 
third  has  tione  ? 

But,  it  may  be  said,  is  not  this  view  of  the  material  universe 
open  to  the  imputation  that  it  is  "evolved  out  of  the  depths  of 
our  own  consciousness  " — a  projection  of  our  own  intellect  into 
what  surrounds  us — an  ideal  rather  than  a  real  world  ?  If  all 
we  know  of  matter  be  an  "  intellectual  conception,"  how  are 
we  to  distinguish  this  from  such  as  we  form  in  our  dreams  ? — 
for  these,  as  our  Laureate  no  less  happily  than  philosophically 
expresses  it,  are  "true  while  they  last."  Here  our  "common 
sense"  comes  to  the  rescue.  We  "awake,  and  behold  it  was 
a  dream."      Every  healthy  mind  is  conscious  of  the  difference 


MAN   THE  INTERPRETER   OF  NATURE.         203 

between  its  waking  and  its  dreaming  experiences  ;  or,  if  it  is 
now  and  then  puzzled  to  answer  the  question,  "  Did  this  really 
happen,  or  did  I  dream  it?"  the  perplexity  arises  from  the 
consciousness  that  it  might  have  happened.  And  every  healthy 
mind,  finding  its  own  experiences  of  its  waking  state  not  only 
self-consistent,  but  consistent  with  the  experiences  of  others, 
accepts  them  as  the  basis  of  its  beliefs,  in  preference  to  even 
the  most  vivid  recollections  of  its  dreams. 

The  lunatic  pauper  who  regards  himself  as  a  king,  the  asylum 
in  which  he  is  confined  as  a  palace  of  regal  splendour,  and 
his  keepers  as  obsequious  attendants,  is  so  "  possessed  "  by  the 
conception  framed  by  his  disordered  intellect,  that  he  does  pro- 
ject it  out  of  himself  into  his  surroundings  ;  his  refusal  to  admit 
the  corrective  teaching  of  common  sense  being  the  very  essence 
of  his  malady.  And  there  are  not  a  few  persons  abroad  in  the 
world,  who  equally  resist  the  teachings  of  educated  common 
sense,  whenever  they  run  counter  to  their  own  preconceptions ; 
and  who  may  be  regarded  as — in  so  far — affected  with  what  I  once 
heard  Mr.  Carlyle  pithily  characterize  as  a  "  diluted  insanity." 

It  has  been  asserted,  over  and  over  again,  of  late  years,  by 
a  class  of  men  who  claim  to  be  the  only  true  interpreters  of 
Nature,  that  we  know  nothing  but  matter  and  the  laws  of  matter, 
and  that  force  is  a  mere  fiction  of  the  imagination.  May  it  not 
be  aflSrmed,  on  the  other  hand,  that  while  our  notion  of  matter 
is  a  conception  of  the  intellect,  force  is  that  of  which  we  have 
Xht  most  direct — perhaps  even  the  only  direct — cognizance?  As 
I  have  already  shown  you,  the  knowledge  of  resistance  and  of 
weight  which  we  gain  through  our  tactile  sense  is  derived  from 
our  own  perception  of  exertion ;  and  in  vision,  as  in  hearing, 
it  is  the  force  with  which  the  undulations  strike  the  sensitive 
surface  that  affects  our  consciousness  with  sights  or  sounds. 
True  it  is  that  in  our  visual  and  auditory  sensations,  we  do  not, 
as  in  our  tactile,  directly  cognosce  the  force  which  produces 
them ;  but  the  physicist  has  no  difficulty  in  making  sensible 
to  us  indirectly  the  undulations  by  which  sound  is  propagated, 
and  in  proving  to  our  intellect  that  the  force  concerned  in  the 
transmission  of  light  is  really  enormous.* 

•  See  Sir  John  Herschel's  "  Familiar  Lectures  on  Scientific  Subjects." 


204  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

It  seems  strange  that  those  who  make  the  loudest  appeal  to 
experience  as  the  basis  of  all  knowledge,  should  thus  disregard 
the  most  constant,  the  most  fundamental,  the  most  direct  of  all 
experiences ;  as  to  which  the  common  sense  of  mankind  affords 
a  guiding  light  much  clearer  than  any  that  can  be  seen  through 
the  dust  of  philosophical  discussion.  For,  as  Sir  John  Herschel 
most  truly  remarked,  the  universal  consciousness  of  mankind  is 
as  much  in  accord  in  regard  to  the  existence  of  a  real  and  intimate 
connection  between  cause  and  effect,  as  it  is  in  regard  to  the  ex- 
istence of  the  external  world ;  and  that  consciousness  arises  to 
every  one  out  of  his  own  sense  of  personal  exertion  in  the  origina- 
tion of  changes  by  his  individual  agency. 

Now  while  fully  accepting  the  logical  definition  of  cause  as 
the  "antecedent  or  concurrence  of  antecedents  on  which  the 
"  effect  is  invariably  and  unconditionally  consequent,"  we  can 
always  single  out  one  dynamical  antecedent — the  power  which 
does  the  work — from  the  aggregate  of  material  conditions  under 
which  that  power  may  be  distributed  and  applied.  No  doubt  the 
term  cause  is  very  loosely  employed  in  popular  phraseology ;  often 
(as  Mr.  Mill  has  shown)  to  designate  the  occurrence  that  imme- 
diately preceded  the  effect ; — as  when  it  is  said  that  the  spark 
which  falls  into  a  barrel  of  gunpowder  is  the  cause  of  its  explosion, 
or  that  the  slipping  of  a  man's  foot  off  the  rung  of  a  ladder  is  the 
cause  of  his  fall.  But  even  a  very  slightly  trained  intelligence  can 
distinguish  the  power  which  acts  in  each  case,  from  the  conditions 
under  which  it  acts.  The  force  which  produces  the  explosion  is 
locked  up  (as  it  were)  in  the  powder  ;  and  ignition  merely  liberates 
it,  by  bringing  about  new  chemical  combinations.  The  fall  of  the 
man  from  the  ladder  is  due  to  the  gravity  which  was  equally  pull- 
ing him  down  while  he  rested  on  it;  and  the  loss  of  support? 
either  by  the  slipping  of  his  foot,  or  by  the  breaking  of  the  rung, 
is  merely  that  change  in  the  material  conditions  which  gives  the 
power  a  new  action. 

Many  of  you  have  doubtless  viewed  with  admiring  interest 
that  truly  wonderful  work  of  human  design,  the  Walter  printing- 
machine.  You  first  examine  it  at  rest ;  presently  comes  a.  man, 
who  simply  pulls  a  handle  towards  him  :  and  the  whole  inert 
mechanism  becomes  instinct  with  life, — the  continuous  sheet  of 


MAN   THE  INTERPRETER    OF  NATURE.         205 

four  miles  of  blank  paper  which  rolls  off  the  cylinder  at  one  end, 
being  delivered  at  the  other,  without  any  intermediate  human 
agency,  as  separate  Times  newspapers,  at  the  rate  of  15,000  an 
hour.  Now  what  is  the  cai/se  of  this  most  marvellous  effect? 
Surely  it  lies  essentially  in  the  power  or  force  which  the  pulling  of 
the  handle  brought  to  bear  on  the  machine  from  some  extraneous 
source  of  power, — which  we  in  this  instance  know  to  be  a  steam- 
engine  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall.  This  force  it  is,  which,  dis- 
tributed through  the  various  parts  of  the  mechanism,  really  performs 
the  action  of  which  each  is  the  instrument;  ihey  only  supply  the 
vehicle  for  its  transmission  and  application.  The  man  comes 
again,  pushes  the  handle  in  the  opposite  direction,  detaches  the 
machine  from  the  steam-engine,  and  the  whole  comes  to  a  stand ; 
and  so  it  remains,  like  an  inanimate  corpse,  until  recalled  to 
activity  by  the  renewal  of  its  moving  power. 

But,  say  the  reasoners  who  deny  that  force  is  anything  else 
than  a  fiction  of  the  imagination,  the  revolving  shaft  of  the  steam- 
engine  is  "  matter  in  motion ; "  and  when  the  connection  is 
established  between  that  shaft  and  the  one  that  drives  the 
machine,  the  motion  is  communicated  from  the  former  to  the 
latter,  and  thence  distributed  to  the  several  parts  of  the  mechan- 
ism. This  account  of  the  operation  is  just  what  an  observer 
might  give,  who  had  looked  on  with  entire  ignorance  of  every- 
thmg  but  what  his  eyes  could  see ;  the  moment  he  puts  his  hand 
upon  any  part  of  the  machinery,  and  tries  to  stop  its  motion, 
he  takes  as  direct  cognizance,  through  his  feeling  of  the  effort 
required  to  resist  it,  of  \hQ  force  which  produces  that  motion,  as  he 
does  through  his  eye  of  the  motion  itself 

Now  since  it  is  universally  admitted  that  our  notion  of  the 
external  world  would  be  not  only  incomplete,  but  erroneous,  if 
our  visual  perceptions  were  not  supplemented  by  our  tactile,  so, 
as  it  seems  to  me,  our  interpretation  of  the  phenomena  of  the 
universe  must  be  very  inadequate,  if  we  do  not  mentally  co- 
ordinate the  idea  of  force  with  that  of  motion,  and  recognize  it  as 
the  "  efficient  cause  "  of  those  phenomena, — the  "  material  con- 
ditions" constituting  (to  use  the  old  scholastic  term)  only  ''their 
•'  formal  cause."  And  I  lay  the  greater  stress  on  this  point,  because 
the  mechanical  philosophy  of  the  present  day  tends  more  and 


2o6  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

more  to  express  itself  in  terms  of  motion  rather  than  in  terms  of 
force  ; — to  become  kinetics  instead  oi  dynamics. 

Thus  from  whatever  side  we  look  at  this  question, — whether 
the  common  sense  of  mankind,  the  logical  analysis  of  the  relation 
between  cause  and  effect,  or  the  study  of  the  working  of  our  own 
intellects  in  the  interpretation  of  Nature, — we  seem  led  to  the 
same  conclusion;  that  the  notion  of  y^;-^!?  is  one  of  those  ele- 
mentary forms  of  thought  with  which  we  can  no  more  dispense, 
than  we  can  with  the  notion  of  space  or  of  succession.  And  I 
shall  now,  in  the  last  place,  endeavour  to  show  you  that  it  is  the 
substitution  of  the  dynamical  for  the  mere  phenomenal  idea,  which 
gives  their  highest  value  to  our  conceptions  of  that  order  of 
Nature,  which  is  worshipped  as  itself  a  god  by  the  class  of  inter- 
preters whose  doctrine  I  call  in  question. 

The  most  illustrative  as  well  as  the  most  illustrious  example 
of  the  difference  between  the  mere  generalization  of  phenomena 
and  the  dynamical  conception  that  applies  to  them,  is  furnished 
by  the  contrast  between  the  so-called  laws  of  planetary  motion 
discovered  by  the  persevering  ingenuity  of  Kepler,  and  the  inter- 
pretation of  that  motion  given  us  by  the  profound  insight  of 
Newton.  Kepler's  three  laws  were  nothing  more  than  compre- 
hensive statements  of  certain  groups  of  phenomena  determined 
by  observation.  The  first,  that  of  the  revolution  of  the  planets 
in  elliptical  orbits,  was  based  on  the  study  of  the  observed 
places  of  Mars  alone  ;  it  might  or  might  not  be  true  of  the  other 
planets ;  for,  so  far  as  Kepler  knew,  there  was  no  reason  why 
the  orbits  of  some  of  them  might  not  be  the  excentric  circles 
which  he  had  first  supposed  that  of  Mars  to  be.  So  Kepler's 
second  law  of  the  passage  of  the  radius  vector  over  equal  areas  in 
equal  times,  so  long  as  it  was  simply  a  generalization  of  facts  in 
the  case  of  that  one  planet,  carried  with  it  no  reason  for  its  ap- 
plicability to  other  cases,  except  that  which  it  might  derive  from 
his  erroneous  conception  of  a  whirling  force.  And  his  third  law 
was  in  like  manner  simply  an  expression  of  a  certain  harmonic 
relation  which  he  had  discovered  between  the  times  and  the  dis- 
tances of  the  planets,  having  no  more  rational  value  than  any 
other  of  his  numerous  hypotheses. 

Now  the  Newtonian  "laws"  are  often  spoken  of  as  if  they 


MAN   THE  INTERPRETER    OF  NATURE.         207 

were  merely  higher  generalizafiofis  in  which  Kepler's  are  in- 
cluded ;  to  me  they  seem  to  possess  an  altogether  different 
character.  For  starting  with  the  conception  of  two  forces,  one 
of  them  tending  to  produce  continuous  uniform  motion  in  a 
straight  line,  the  other  tending  to  produce  a  uniformly  accele- 
rated motion  towards  a  fixed  point,  Newton's  wonderful  mastery 
of  geometrical  reasoning  enabled  him  to  show  that,  if  these 
^//rtw/Va/ assumptions  be  granted,  Kepler's //2<?/itfw^««/ ."  laws," 
being  necessary  consequences  of  them,  must  be  universally  true. 
And  while  that  demonstration  would  have  been  alone  sufficient 
to  give  him  an  imperishable  renown,  it  was  his  still  greater  glory 
to  divine  that  the  fall  of  the  moon  towards  the  earth — that  is,  the 
deflection  of  her  path  from  a  tangential  line  to  an  ellipse — is  a 
phenomenon  of  the  same  order  as  the  fall,  of  a  stone  to  the  ground ; 
and  thus  to  show  the  applicability  to  the  entire  universe,  of  those 
simple  dynamical  conceptions  which  constitute  the  basis  of  the 
geometry  of  the  Principia. 

Thus,  then,  whilst  no  "law"  which  is  simply  d, generalization 
of  phenotnena  can  be  considered  as  having  any  coercive  action,  we 
may  assign  that  value  to  laws  which  express  the  universal  con- 
ditions of  the  action  of  a  force  whose  existence  we  learn  from  the 
testimony  of  our  own  consciousness.  The  assurance  we  feel  that 
the  attraction  of  gravitation  tnust  act  under  all  circumstances  ac- 
cording to  those  simple  laws  which  arise  immediately  out  of  our 
dynamical  conception  of  it,  is  of  a  very  different  order  from  that 
which  we  have  in  regard  (for  example)  to  the  laws  of  chemical 
attraction,  which  are  as  yet  only  generalizations  of  phenomena. 
And  yet  even  in  that  strong  assurance,  we  are  required  by  our 
examination  of  the  basis  on  which  it  rests,  to  admit  a  reserve  of 
the  possibility  of  something  different ;  a  reserve  which  we  may 
well  believe  that  Newton  himself  must  have  entertained. 

A  most  valuable  lesson  as  to  the  allowance  we  ought  always 
to  make  for  the  unknown  "  possibilities  of  Nature,"  is  taught  us 
by  an  exceptional  phenomenon  so  familiar  that  it  does  not  attract 
the  notice  it  has  a  right  to  claim.  Next  to  the  law  of  the  uni- 
versal attraction  of  masses  of  matter,  there  is  none  that  seems  to 
have  a  wider  range  than  that  of  the  expansion  of  bodies  by  heat  and 
their  contraction  by  cold.     Excluding  water  and  one  or  two  other 


2o8  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

substances,  the  fact  of  such  expansion  might  be  said  to  be  in- 
variable;  and,  as  regards  bodies  whose  gaseous  condition  is 
known,  the  law  of  expansion  can  be  stated  in  a  form  no  less 
simple  and  definite  than  the  law  of  gravitation.  Supposing 
those  exceptions,  then,  to  be  unknown,  the  law  would  be 
universal  in  its  range.  But  it  comes  to  be  discovered  that  water, 
whilst  conforming  to  it  in  its  expansion  from  39^°  upwards  to 
its  boiling-point,  as  also,  when  it  passes  into  steam,  to  the  special 
law  of  expansion  of  vapours,  is  exceptional  in  expatiding  also 
from  39^°  donmivards  to  its  freezing-point ;  and  of  this  failure 
in  the  universality  of  the  law,  no  rationale  can  be  given.  Still 
more  strange  is  it,  that  by  dissolving  a  little  salt  in  water,  we 
should  remove  this  exceptional  peculiarity ;  for  ^^a-water  con- 
tinues to  contract  from  39^'  downwards  to  its  freezing-point  12'^ 
or  14°  lower,  just  as  it  does  with  reduction  of  temperature  at 
higher  ranges. 

Thus  from  our  study  of  the  mode  in  which  we  arrive  at  those 
conceptions  of  the  orderly  sequence  observable  in  the  phenomena 
of  Nature  which  we  call  "  laws,"  we  are  led  to  the  conclusion 
that  they  are  human  conceptions,  subject  to  human  fallibility;  and 
that  they  may  or  may  not  express  the  ideas  of  the  great  Author 
of  Nature.  To  set  up  these  laws  as  self-acting,  and  as  either  ex- 
cluding or  rendering  unnecessary  the  power  which  alone  can  give 
them  effect,  appears  to  me  as  arrogant  as  it  is  unphilosophical. 
To  speak  of  any  law  as  "regulating"  or  "governing"  phe- 
nomena, is  only  permissible  on  the  assumption  that  the  law  is 
the  expression  of  the  modus  operandi  of  a  governing  power. — 
I  was  once  in  a  great  city  which  for  two  days  was  in  the  hands 
of  a  lawless  mob.  Magisterial  authority  was  suspended  by 
timidity  and  doubt ;  the  force  at  its  command  was  paralyzed 
by  want  of  resolute  direction.  The  "laws"  were  on  the  statute 
book,  but  there  was  no  power  to  enforce  them.  And  so  the 
powers  of  evil  did  their  terrible  work ;  and  fire  and  rapine  con- 
tinued to  destroy  life  and  property  without  check,  until  new  power 
came  in,  when  the  reign  of  law  was  restored. 

And  thus  we  are  led  to  the  culminating  point  of  man's  intel- 
lectual interpretation  of  Nature — his  recognition  of  the  unity  of 
the  power,  of  which  her  phenomena  are  the  diversified  manifesta- 


MAN   THE  INTERPRETER    OF  NATURE.  209 

tions.  Towards  this  point  all  scientific  inquiry  now  tends.  The 
convertibility  of  the  physical  forces,  the  correlation  of  these  with 
the  vital,  and  the  intimacy  of  that  nexus  between  mental  and 
bodily  activity,  which,  explain  it  as  we  may,  cannot  be  denied, 
all  lead  upward  towards  one  and  the  same  conclusion ;  and  the 
pyramid  of  which  that  philosophical  conclusion  is  the  apex,  has  its 
foundation  in  the  primitive  instincts  of  humanity. 

By  our  own  remote  progenitors,  as  by  the  untutored  savage 
of  the  present  day,  every  change  in  which  human  agency  is  not 
apparent  was  referred  to  a  particular  animating  intelligence. 
And  thus  they  attributed  not  only  the  movements  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  but  all  phenomena  of  Nature,  each  to  its  own  deity. 
These  deities  were  invested  with  more  than  human  power ;  but 
they  were  also  supposed  capable  of  human  passions,  and  subject 
to  human  capriciousness.  As  the  uniformities  of  Nature  came  to 
be  more  distinctly  recognized,  some  of  these  deities  were  invested 
with  a  dominant  control,  while  others  were  supposed  to  be  their 
subordinate  ministers.  A  serene  majesty  was  attributed  to  the 
greater  gods  who  sit  above  the  clouds ;  while  their  inferiors 
migrht  "  come  down  to  earth  in  the  likeness  of  men."  With  the 
growth  of  the  scientific  study  of  Nature,  the  conception  of  its 
harmony  and  unity  gained  ever-increasing  strength.  And  so 
among  the  most  enlightened  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  philo- 
sophers, we  find  a  distinct  recognition  of  the  idea  of  the  unity  of 
the  directing  mind  from  which  the  order  of  Nature  proceeds ;  for 
they  obviously  believed  that,  as  our  modern  poet  has  expressed 

it^ 

"All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
"  Whose  body  Nature  is,  and  God  the  soul." 

The  science  of  modern  times,  however,  has  taken  a  more 
special  direction.  Fixing  its  attention  exclusively  on  the  order 
of  Nature,  it  has  separated  itself  wholly  from  theology,  whose 
function  it  is  to  seek  after  its  cause.  In  this,  science  is  fully  justi- 
fied, alike  by  the  entire  independence  of  its  objects,  and  by  the 
historical  fact  that  it  has  been  continually  hampered  and  impeded 
in  its  search  for  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Nature,  by  the  restraints 
which  theologians  have  attempted  to  impose  upon  its  inquiries. 
But  when  science,  passing  beyond  its  own  limits,  assumes  to  take 


2IO  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

the  place  of  theology,  and  sets  up  its  own  conception  of  the  order 
of  Nature  as  a  sufficient  account  of  its  cause,  it  is  invading  a 
province  of  thought  to  which  it  has  no  claim,  and  not  unreason- 
ably provokes  the  hostility  of  those  who  ought  to  be  its  best 
friends. 

For  whilst  the  deep-seated  instincts  of  humanity,  and  the  pro- 
foundest  researches  of  philosophy,  alike  point  to  mind  as  the  one 
and  only  source  of  power,  it  is  the  high  prerogative  of  science  to 
demonstrate  the  unity  of  the  power  which  is  operating  through  the 
limitless  extent  and  variety  of  the  universe,  and  to  trace  its  con- 
tinuity through  the  vast  series  of  ages  tliat  have  been  occupied 
in  its  evolution. 


VII. 
ON  THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF. 

[The   Roscoe    lecture,    delivered   before  the   Literary  and    Philosophical 
Society  of  Liverpool,  November  24,  1873.] 

The  progress  of  thought  has  been  likened,  by  an  able  writer  of 
our  time,  to  a  succession  of  waves  which  sweep  over  the  minds  of 
men  at  distant  intervals  : — 

"  There  are  periods  of  comparative  calm  and  stagnation,  and 
"  then  times  of  gradual  swelling  and  upheaving  of  the  deep,  till 
"  some  great  billow  slowly  rears  its  crest  above  the  surface,  higher 
"and  still  higher,  to  the  last;  when,  with  a  mighty  convulsion, 
"amid  foam  and  spray,  and  'noise  of  many  waters,'  it  topples 
"  over  and  bursts  in  thunder  up  the  beach,  bearing  the  flood  line 
"  higher  than  before." 

"  In  the  eyes  of  those  who  have  watched  intelligently  the  signs 
"  of  the  times,"  continued  Miss  Cobbe,  "  it  seems  that  some  such 
"  wave  as  this  is  even  now  gathering  beneath  us,  a  deeper  and 
"  broader  wave  than  has  ever  yet  arisen.  No  partial  and  tem- 
"  porary  rippling  of  the  surface  is  it  now,  but  a  whole  mass  of 
"  living  thought  seems  steadily  and  slowly  upheaved,  and  the 
"ocean  is  moved  to  its  depths." * 

The  experience  of  the  last  ten  years  has  so  fully  justified  this 

grave  warning,  that  it  clearly  becomes  all  who  duly  care  for  their 

own  and  their  children's  welfare,  to  looic  well  to  the  foundations  of 

their  beliefs,  which  are  likely  soon  to  be  tested  by  such  a  wave  as 

*  Preface  to  the  collected  works  of  Theodore  Parker,  1863. 

10 


212  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

has  never  before  tried  their  solidity.  New  methods  of  research, 
new  bodies  of  facts,  new  modes  of  interpretation,  new  orders  of 
ideas,  are  concurring  to  drive  onwards  a  flood  which  will  bear 
with  unprecedented  force  against  our  whole  fabric  of  doctrine ; 
and  no  edifice  is  safe  against  its  undermining  power,  that  is  not 
firmly  bedded  on  the  solid  rock  of  truth.  How,  then,  are  we  to 
prepare  ourselves  to  meet  it  ?  Shall  we,  like  Canute  and  his 
courtiers,  rest  secure  in  our  own  supremacy,  and  try  to  keep  back 
the  waves  by  simply  forbidding  their  advance?  We  need  not  go 
as  far  as  Rome  for  examples  of  this  mode  of  dealing  with  the 
difificulty  ;  for  we  have  a  good  many  minor  popes  at  home,  who 
can  scold  quit?  as  well — and  just  as  ineffectually.  Shall  we  go 
out,  as  Mrs.  Partington  did,  with  pattens  and  broom,  to  try  and 
sweep  away  the  Atlantic  ?  Such  seems  to  me  the  method  of 
those  who  aim  to  put  down  a  great  scientific  hypothesis  by 
citing  a  text  or  two ;  *  setting  themselves  up  on  the  pattens 
of  authority,  and  using  arguments  that  are  no  more  capable  of 
holding  water  than  the  incoherent  twigs  of  a  besom.  Or  shall 
we  imitate  the  able  engineer,  who,  without  experience  of  the 
power  of  a  Channel-sea  driven  onwards  at  highest  spring-tide 
by  a  south-west  gale,  thought  to  protect  his  railway-embankment 
by  a  massive  wall  ?  That  wall  was  broken  down,  that  embank- 
ment washed  away,  by  the  very  first  storm  that  tested  its  security. 
And  so  will  it  be  with  any  barrier  which  the  intellect  of  man  may 
try  to  erect  against  the  progress  of  other  intellects  than  his  own  ; 
for  it  is  only  the  Source  of  all  Thought  who  can  say  "  Hitherto 
"  shalt  thou  come,  and  no  further,  and  here  shall  thy  proud  waves 
"  be  stayed." 

To  what  example,  then,  can  we  look  ?  What  better  can  we 
wish  for  than  is  supplied  by  that  wonderful  edifice,  which,  for 
more  than  a  century,  braving  the  violence  of  the  most  destructive 
storms,  has  calmly  and  unintermittingly  displayed  its  guiding  light 
to  the  wave-tossed  mariner,  and  which  has  furnished  the  pattern 
of  every  similar  beacon  elsewhere  erected  for  the  direction  and 
warning  of  the  navigator.  I  need  not  tell  you  to  what  I  refer ; 
for  Smeaton  and  the  Eddystone  are  household  words  to  every 
Briton.  But  I  would  show  you  something  of  the  mind  of  the  man 
*  See  "  Priests  and  Philosophers,"  by  the  Rev.  W.  Greswell. 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  213 

who  executed  what  has  been  characterized  *  as  "  the  most  arduous 
"  undertaking  that  had  fallen  to  any  engineer,  and  than  which  none 
'*  was  ever  more  successfully  executed ; "  and  something  of  the  way 
in  which  he  prepared  himself  for  his  great  work. 

The  mind  of  Smeaton  is  made  known  to  us  in  that  admirable 
series  of  reports  on  engineering  subjects,  which  were  described  by 
the  same  competent  authority,  "as  a  mine  of  wealth  for  the  sound 
"  principles  which  they  unfold,  and  the  able  practice  they  exemplify; 
"  both  alike  based  on  close  observation  of  the  operations  of  Nature, 
"  and  affording  many  fine  examples  of  cautious  sagacity  in  applying 
"the  instructions  she  gives  to  the  means  within  the  reach  of  art." 
It  was  to  Nature,  not  to  the  time-honoured  traditions  of  his  pro- 
fession, that  this  great  practical  philosopher  went,  when  he  had  to 
deal  with  the  problem  of  the  Eddystone.  He  saw  in  the  bole  of 
the  oak  which  had  stood  the  blasts  of  centuries,  the  shape  that 
would  not  only  give  to  his  tower  the  greatest  inherent  strength, 
but  would  project  upwards,  instead  of  directly  resisting,  the  dash 
of  the  impetuous  waves.  And  he  then  brought  all  the  resources 
of  constructive  skill  to  carry  out  this  sagacious  design ;  erecting 
on  a  broad  and  solid  foundation  that  beautifully  formed  super- 
structure, which  not  only  bears  aloft  the  far-shining  and  welcome 
light,  but  serves  as  the  dwelling-place  for  those  who  are  charged 
with  its  maintenance. 

And  this,  it  seems  to  me,  is  the  way  in  which  we  should  en- 
deavour to  erect  our  own  fabric  of  thought,  if  we  wish  it  to  be 
enduring  in  itself — withstanding  alike  the  rude  assaults  of  external 
force,  and  the  gradual  weakening  of  internal  decay — and  to  afford 
a  guiding  light  to  others.  Our  foundations  must  be  laid  broad 
and  deep  in  the  intellectual,  moral,  and  physical  constitution  of 
man,  and  his  relation  to  all  that  is  outside  him.  Those  fixed  and 
immutable  principles  of  reason  on  which  all  knowledge  is  based, 
must  be  solidly  and  patiently  built  up,  course  by  course  ;  each 
securely  bolted-down  to  that  which  supports  it.  We  must  learn 
early  "  to  distinguish  what  is  just  in  itself,  from  what  is  merely 
"accredited  by  illustrious  names."  We  must  cultivate  the  insight 
which  shall  enable  us  to  detect  a  fallacy  of  observation,  or  a 

*  Introduction  to  the  first  volume  of  the  "  Transactions  of  the  Institution 
of  Civil  Engineers." 


214  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

weakness  of  deduction  ;  and  determinately  reject  from  our  ground- 
tiers  every  stone  that  is  not  fit  to  bear  the  weight  of  the  super- 
structure we  intend  to  raise  upon  them.  Recognizing  it  as  a  fact 
in  the  history  of  human  thought,  that  every  great  error  contains 
some  admixture  of  truth,  from  which  its  power  over  men's  minds 
is  essentially  derived,  we  must  so  shape  our  fabric  that  it  shall 
direct,  rather  than  oppose,  the  force  of  the  aggressive  wave.  And 
then,  though  our  skill  may  not  suffice  to  give  permanence  to  our 
weaker  superstructure,  though  our  lantern  may  be  shattered  and 
our  light  may  for  a  time  be  extinguished,  we  shall  retain  a  secure 
basis  on  which  to  rebuild  our  tower,  crowning  it  with  a  new 
and  more  enduring  dome,  and  setting  in  it  a  lamp  of  yet  brighter 
lustre. 

Such,  I  persuade  myself,  would  have  been  the  mode  in  which 
we  should  have  been  counselled  by  the  calm  wisdom  and  richly 
stored  historic  experience  of  that  illustrious  man,  whose  memory 
you  are  now  met  to  honour ;  had  he  lived  into  these  times,  and 
been  brought  face  to  face  with  the  problems  we  have  now  to 
meet.  Accustomed  as  I  have  been  from  boyhood  to  hear  his 
name  mentioned  with  affectionate  respect,  counting  some  of  his 
descendants  among  my  most  valued  friends,  and  not  unfamiliar 
with  the  general  bearing  of  his  historic  writings,  I  cannot  be 
ignorant  of  the  life-long  consistency  with  which  he  advocated  the 
cause  of  human  freedom  and  human  progress ;  of  the  grave 
severity  with  which  he  reflected  on  the  intolerance  of  those  re- 
formers, who,  while  struggling  against  the  absolutism  of  papal 
Rome,  endeavoured  to  make  themselves  scarcely  less  absolute ; 
and  of  the  true  philosophy  and  lenient  charity  with  which  he 
attributed  that  intolerance  to  the  habit  ingrained  in  their  nature 
by  their  early  training,  of  which  it  was  scarcely  in  their  power  to 
divest  themselves. 

And  in  now  inviting  your  attention  to  that  most  important 
question  of  practical  psychology, — the  mode  in  which  our  beliefs 
are  formed,  and  the  degree  in  which  we  are  personally  responsible 
for  them, — I  am  but  following  a  path  which  he  marked  out, 
towards  a  conclusion  in  which  I  persuade  myself  that  he  would 
have  concurred. 

Our  beliefs  must  be  carefully  distinguished  from  our  know- 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  215 

ledge ;  and  they  seem  to  me  to  bear  much  the  sam.e  relation  to 
it,  that  our  furniture  has  to  the  building  in  which  we  put  it.  The 
walls  (are  or  ought  to  be)" solid  and  enduring;  so  is  everything 
that  deserves  to  be  called  knowledge.  Each  stone  supports,  and 
is  supported  by,  the  rest ;  and  nothing  but  a  weakness  of  its 
foundation  or  a  decay  of  its  material  can  make  our  fabric  of 
thought  uninhabitable.  But  the  beliefs  with  which  we  furnish  it 
have  not  the  same  durability.  Adapted  to  meet  our  temporary 
needs,  they  may  be  either  poor  in  material,  or  but  slightly  put 
together.  A  carpet  wears  out,  and,  when  past  shifting  and  patch- 
ing, must  be  replaced  by  a  new  one  ;  a  table  or  a  chair  breaks 
down,  and,  after  successive  repairs,  is  discarded  as  no  longer 
serviceable.  Or  perhaps  our  requirements  change  ;  and  some 
article  which  was  at  first  made  expressly  in  accordance  with  them, 
proves  no  longer  suitable  to  our  needs ;  so  that,  finding  it  in  our 
way,  we  wish  to  get  rid  of  it.  Some  pieces  of  our  furniture,  again, 
originally  of  more  substantial  make,  have  become  faded  and  old- 
fashioned  ;  but  they  may  be  family  heirlooms,  or  we  may  have 
ourselves  become  attached  to  them  ;  and  so,  not  liking  to  discard 
them  altogether,  we  put  them  away  in  some  dark  corner,  or  perhaps 
consign  them  to  a  seldom-visited  lumber-room,  where  they  rest 
almost  forgotten  in  their  obscurity.  But  at  last  some  ray  of  sun- 
shine throws  a  brighter  light  than  usual  upon  our  dark  corner ;  or 
the  opening  of  the  shutters  of  our  lumber-room  lets  into  it  the 
unwonted  light  of  day  ;  and  we  then  find  our  old  sofas  and  four- 
post  beds  so  moth-eaten  and  decayed,  that  we  turn  them  out  of 
our  house  instanter. 

I  shall  not  pursue  this  comparison  at  present,  but  propose  to 
resume  and  develop  it  hereafter. 

Although  belief,  as  Dr.  Reid  truly  says,  "  admits  of  all  degrees, 
from  the  slightest  suspicion  to  the  fullest  assurance,"  yet  we 
commonly  use  the  term  to  designate  that  form  of  assent  to  any 
particular  proposition,  which,  Avhile  falling  short  of  positive  cer- 
tainty, is  yet  sufficiently  complete  not  only  to  serve  as  the  basis  of 
our  further  reasoning,  but  to  direct  our  course  of  action.  And  it 
is  chiefly  in  this  sense  that  I  shall  use  the  term  on  the  present 
occasion  ;  distinguishing  belief,  on  the  one  hand,  from  that  com- 
plete assurance  which  constitutes  positive  knowledge,  and^  on  the 


2i6  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

other,  from  that  merely  speculative  or  provisional  acceptance  of 
a  proposition,  which  neither  shapes  our  thought,  nor  governs  our 
action,  and  which  really  constitutes  little  more  than  an  absence  of 
^//Vbelief  in  it. 

You  are  all  familiar  with  that  current  doctrine  in  regard  to  the 
nature  of  behef,  which  assumes  that  we  "try"  every  proposition  in 
our  court  of  intellect,  just  as  we  try  a  prisoner  in  a  court  of  law. 
We  are  supposed  to  listen  with  equal  attention  to  the  evidence 
adduced  on  each  side,  and  to  give  our  best  consideration  to  the 
arguments  which  the  opposing  advocates  erect  upon  it.  Holding 
our  intellectual  balance  with  eyes  blinded  like  those  of  Justice,  we 
poise  against  each  other  the  two  aggregates  of,  pro  and  con  ;  and 
according  as  one  or  the  other  scale  is  made  to  go  down  by  the 
"  preponderance  of  evidence,"  do  we  accept  or  reject  the  pro- 
position. But  how  comes  it,  if  this  be  the  whole  account  of  our 
procedure,  that  the  judgments  of  different  men  on  the  very  same 
evidence  are  so  notoriously  diverse  ?  The  great  Tichborne  case, 
for  example,  cannot  be  brought  up  in  any  society,  without  elicit- 
ing opposite  verdicts  from  self-constituted  jurymen,  who  profess 
to  have  followed  the  course  of  the  whole  trial  with  the  greatest 
care,  and  whose  judgment  cannot  be  supposed  to  have  been 
swayed  by  the  least  admixture  of  partiality  or  self-interest.  The 
clue  to  this  diversity  is  found  in  the  further  fact,  that  even  those 
who  agree  in  their  conclusion,  will  often  be  found  to  have  formed 
it  on  dissimilar  grounds  ;  the  respective  weights  of  the  several 
evidentiary  facts  being  very  differently  estimated  by  different 
individuals.  And  thus  we  are  led  to  this  result ;  that  the  weights 
or  probative  values  of  such  evidentiary  facts  are  not  absolute  quan- 
tities, but  77iatters  of  personal  estimate  ;  being — like  our  sensations 
of  heat  or  cold  as  compared  with  the  indications  of  the  ther- 
mometer— the  expressions  of  their  effects  upon  our  own  con- 
sciousness. For  while  there  are  some  things  as  to  which  the 
common  consciousness  of  mankind  is  in  perfect  accord,  there  are 
others  which  impress  different  individuals  so  diversely,  that  we 
are  forced  to  regard  what  may  be  termed  the  personal  equation  * 

*  This  term  is  used  by  astronomers  to  mark  the  quickness  of  sight  by 
which  each  of  several  observers  is  characterized  ;  any  visual  phenomenon  that 
is  being  watched  for  by  two  observers  at  once  (as,  for  example,  the  contact  of 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  217 

of  each  recipient,  as  a  factor  whose  importance  is  at  least  equal 
to  that  of  the  impressing  force,  in  the  determination  of  the 
resultant  belief 

The  nature  of  this  "personal  equation,"  and  the  degree  in 
which  its  determination  lies  within  our  own  power,  constitute, 
therefore,  an  essential  part  of  our  inquiry. 

No  one   can  attend  to  his  own  habitual  course  of  thought 
without  recognizing  it  as  a  fact,  that  the  judgments  which  deter- 
mine his   beliefs    in  regard   to   a   very  large  proportion   of  the 
propositions  that  are  constandy  coming  before  him  (as,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  reading  of  his  daily  newspaper),  are  so  direct  and 
immediate,    so   httle   governed   by   any   processes   of  conscious 
ratiocination,  as  to  have  much  of  the   intuitive  character.     We 
estimate  the  worth  of  each  statement,  partly  by  our  appreciation 
of  the  external   evidence    on  which  it  rests,    but  still  more  (in 
most  cases  at  least)  by  what  we  call  the  internal  evidence  of  its 
intrinsic  probability.     But  this  intrinsic   probability,   like  the  re- 
spective weights  of  the  several  facts  which  make  up  the  aggregate 
of  the  external  evidence,   may  be  estimated  very  differently  by 
different  individuals  ;  the  "  personal  equation  "  of  each  being  often 
its  most  important  factor.     For  while  there  are  some  propositions 
which  are  at  once  decided  with  absolute  unanimity  by  an  appeal 
to  the   "common  sense"  of  mankind,  there  are  others  on  which 
very  different  decisions  are  given,  with  no  less  directness  and 
assurance,   by  different  individuals,  according  to  the  respective 
mental  state  of  each  at  the  moment;  the  response  of  every  indi- 
vidual mind  to  any  such  question  asked  of  it,  being  as  much  the 
result  of  the  antecedent  condition  of  that  mind,  as  our  feeling  of 
heat  or  cold  when  we  plunge  our  hands  into  a  basin  of  lukewarm 
water  is  dependent  upon  their  previous  thermal  condition.* 

Let  us  take  as  an  example  of  an  immediate  judgment  in 
which  there  would  be  a  general  if  not  an  universal  accordance 
that  which  any  person  of  average  intelligence  would  give  upon 
the  case  put  by  Paley  in  the  opening  sentence  of  his  "  Natural 

a  star  with  the  wire  of  the  transit  instrument)  being  usually  seen  appreciably 
sooner  by  one  of  them  than  by  the  other. 

*  Thus  if  we  immerse  the  right  hand  for  a  short  time  in  cold  water,  and  the 
left  in  hot,  anil  tiicn  transfer  them  botii  to  water  of  medium  temperature,  this 
will  be  felt  as  warm  by  the  right,  and  as  cold  by  the  left. 


2i8  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

Theology": — "In  crossing  a  heath,  suppose  I  pitched  my  foot 
"  against  a  stone,  and  were  asked  how  the  stone  came  to  be  there  : 
"I  might  possibly  answer  that,  for  anything  I  knew  to  the  con- 
"  trar}'-,  it  had  lain  there  for  ever ;  nor  would  it  perhaps  be  very 
"  easy  to  show  the  absurdity  of  this  answer."  Now,  what  is  it 
that  determines  our  immediate  rejection  of  a  proposition,  which, 
as  Paley  says  truly,  cannot  be  easily  refuted  by  any  strict  logical 
process  ?  Perhaps  neither  the  child  nor  the  savage  would  have 
anything  to  say  against  it ;  yet  no  member  of  an  educated  com- 
munity could  entertain  it  for  a  moment.  For  what  we  call  our 
ordinary  common  sense  pronounces  its  adverse  decision  in  the 
most  distinct  and  explicit  form,  immediately  that  the  proposition 
is  brought  before  its  tribunal;  its  judgment  being  an  acquired 
intuition,  which  may  be  regarded  as  the  general  resultant  of  a 
great  aggregate  of  famihar  experiences,  embodied  in  each  indi- 
vidual's reason. 

But  in  a  large  proportion  of  cases,  the  matter  is  one  which  lies 
outside  the  range  of  ordinary  "  common  sense  ; "  some  special 
preparedness  being  required  for  the  right  appreciation  of  the  in- 
herent probability  of  the  statement.  One  among  my  audience, 
for  example,  who  has  no  previous  information  on  the  subject, 
happens  to  read  the  entertaining  and  (in  certain  aspects)  very 
suggestive  "Autobiography  of  Robert  Houdin  the  Conjuror,"  and 
meets,  near  its  conclusion,  with  the  following  passage  : — 

"  The  furnace  (of  an  iron-foundry)  was  opened,  and  a  jet  of 
"  molten  metal,  about  the  thickness  of  my  arm,  burst  forth. 
"  Sparks  flew  in  every  direction,  as  if  it  were  a  firework  perform- 
"ance.  After  the  lapse  of  a  few  minutes,  my  companion  walked 
"up  to  the  furnace,  and  calmly  began  washing  his  hands  in  the 
"  metal,  as  if  it  had  been  lukewarm  water.  I  walked  forward  in 
"  my  turn ;  I  imitated  my  companion's  movements ;  I  literally 
"  dabbled  in  the  burning  liquid ;  I  took  a  handful  of  the  metal 
"  and  threw  it  in  the  air,  and  it  fell  back  in  a  fire-shower  on  the 
"  ground.  The  impression  I  felt  in  touching  this  molten  iron  can 
"  only  be  compared  to  what  I  should  have  experienced  in  handling 
"hquid  velvet,  if  I  may  so  express  myself" 

Any  ordinary  reader  would  be  fully  justified  in  treating  this  won- 
derful narration  as  Houdin's  account  of  some  new  kind  of  conjur- 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  219 

ing  trick,  like  the  "inexhaustible  bottle,"  the  "aerial  suspension," 
or  the  "  second  sight,"  mentioned  in  his  previous  pages.  For  he 
would  scarcely  be  more  able  to  conceive  of  a  man  literally  and 
actually  immersing  his  hands  in  molten  iron,  without  any  special 
preparation,  and  withdrawing  them  unharmed,  than  he  could 
suppose  an  unlimited  quantity  of  several  different  liquids  to  be 
poured  out  of  a  single  bottle. 

Another  reader,  however,  finds  no  inherent  improbability  in 
the  narration  ;  for  he  knows  that  a  special  study  had  been  made 
by  M.  Boutigny  of  that  "spheroidal  state"  of  bodies,  of  which  we 
have  a  familiar  example  in  the  rolling  and  jumping  of  drops  of 
water  upon  a  red-hot  iron  plate ;  and  that  between  this  phe- 
nomenon (which  is  in  itself  sufficiently  wonderful,  when  we  come 
to  think  of  it)  and  the  harmless  immersion  of  the  hand  in  molten 
iron,  M.  Boutigny  had  worked  out  a  continuous  series  of  experi- 
mental marvels,  all  of  them  referable  to  the  same  simple  and 
intelligible  principle, — viz.  the  interposition  of  a  film  of  vapour 
between  the  heated  plate  and  the  water  thrown  upon  it,  or  between 
the  molten  iron  and  the  hand  immersed  in  it,*  which  prevents 
absolute  contact  between  the  two.  Our  second  reader  might 
himself,  perhaps,  have  been  present  at  the  meeting  of  the  British 
Association  in  1845,  at  which  M.  Boutigny  gave  an  account  of 
these  investigations,  and  publicly  exhibited  the  freezing  of  7vater 
in  a  red-hot  platinum  crucible  (an  experiment  which  Faraday 
afterwards  "  capped  "  by  freezing  tnerairy  in  a  like  vessel) ;  and 
at  which,  also,  one  of  the  workmen  at  Messrs.  Ransome  and 
May's  foundry,  in  the  presence  of  a  large  number  of  competent 
witnesses,  did  exactly  what  Houdin  describes.  Or,  if  he  was  not 
himself  present,  he  knows  that  M.  Boutigny's  experiments  were 
fully  accepted  as  genuine  at  the  time  by  the  whole  scientific 
world  ;  that  they  have  never  in  any  way  been  called  in  question ; 
and  that  the  doctrine  founded  upon  them  is  now  universally  recog- 
nized as  an  established  principle  in  physics.  Thus  lie  has  been 
prepared  by  his  previous  training  for  the  ready  acceptance  of 
Houdin's  narration ;  he  feels  assured  that  the  occurrence  might 

*  If  the  hand  be  naturally  moist,  there  is  no  need  of  any  preparation  what- 
ever ;  if  it  be  diy,  the  hand  should  be  previously  dipped  in  water  and  wiped 
on  a  towel. 


220  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

have  happened  exactly  as  it  is  described,  this  very  M.  Boutigny 
being  named  by  Houdin  as  his  companion  and  exemplar ;  and 
looking  to  the  reason  assigned  by  Houdin  for  inquiring  into  the 
subject — viz.  his  desire  to  account  for  the  wonders  he  had  himself 
witnessed  in  the  performances  of  the  Arab  conjurors,  whom  he 
was  sent  by  the  French  Government  to  outdo  (these  men  walking 
with  bare  feet  upon  red-hot  bars  of  iron,  and  licking  red-hot 
plates  with  their  tongues) — he  sees  no  reason  for  discrediting 
Houdin's  statement  that  it  really  did  happen. 

To  the  well-informed  physicist,  the  internal  evidence  of  con- 
formity to  a  general  principle  is  here  so  satisfactory,  that  he  needs 
but  a  very  small  weight  of  external  testimony  to  justify  his  belief 
in  the  particular  fact  narrated.  But  to  any  one  who  comes  freshly 
to  the  subject,  the  affirmation  seems  to  rest  on  external  testimony 
alone  ;  while  the  negation  afforded  by  the  inherent  improbability 
of  the  statement  is  to  the  mind  so  decisive,  that  he  deems  himself 
fully  justified  in  repudiating  it  altogether.  Supposing,  however, 
that  a  scientific  friend  points  out  to  him  that  he  has  no  title  to  set 
up  a  judgment  which  has  no  other  basis  than  his  own  ordinary 
common  sense,  against  that  of  men  who  have  given  special  atten- 
tion to  this  department  of  inquiry,  and  who  agree  in  asserting, 
not  only  that  the  fact  is  true,  but  that  it  admits  of  a  satisfactory 
explanation ;  he  then,  if  not  over-confident  in  his  own  judgment, 
withdraws  the  negation,  and  accepts  the  affirmative,  in  deference 
to  the  authority  by  which  it  is  supported  ;  still,  however,  without 
feeling  that  assurance  which  constitutes  "conviction."  But, 
further,  if  he  can  then  be  induced  to  go,  step  by  step,  through 
the  whole  series  of  experimental  researches  which  lead  up  to  this 
wonderful  climax,  he  comes  to  feel  the  full  force  of  that  internal 
evidence,  which  not  only  removes  all  difficulty  in  the  acceptance 
of  the  asserted  fact,  but  shows  that  it  has  an  inherent  probability 
of  its  own,  as  a  particular  case  of  a  well-established  general 
principle.  And  yet  I  suspect  that,  however  strong  his  mental 
conviction  as  to  the  safety  of  the  act,  there  is  not  one  of  us  who 
would  venture  to  hold  his  hand  in  a  stream  of  molten  iron,  until 
he  had  previously  seen  another  person  do  so  with  impunity. 

Another  illustration,  in  a  very  different  line  of  inquiry,  may 
be  drawn  from  the   recent  case  of  Louise   Lateau,  a   Belgian 


THE   PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  221 

peasant  girl,    who  has   exhibited    the   curious   phenomenon   of 
"  stigmatization," — that    is,    a    spontaneous    periodical    bleeding, 
without  any  actual  wounds,  from  the  hands  and  feet,  the  forehead 
and  the  side,  which  were  pierced  in  the  crucified  Saviour.     By 
Catholics,  this  occurrence  (like  previous  cases  of  the  same  kind) 
has  been  trumpeted  as  miraculous ;  while  by  Protestants,  it  has 
been  denounced  as  an  imposture.     Here  we  at  once  see  how 
completely  the  antecedent  condition  of  each  mind  has  determined 
the  response  ;  the  external  testimony  as  to  the  facts  of  the  case 
which  satisfies   the  former,  being   altogether   repudiated  by  the 
latter,  on  account  of  what  they  regard  as  its  inherent  improb- 
ability.     But  to  the  physiologist  who  has  carefully  studied  the 
local  effects  which  concentrated  attention  can  exert  on  bodily 
organs,  especially  when  coupled  with  a  strong  expectation  of  a 
certain  result  (such  expectation  being  peculiarly  efficacious  when 
coupled  with   strong  religious   emotion),    the    case   presents  no 
difficulty  whatever.     The  testimony  of  the  numerous  and  com- 
petent medical  witnesses,  fully  on  their  guard  against  sources  of 
fallacy,  and  determined  to  detect  the  cheat,  if  cheat  there  were, 
affords  as  strong  a  body  of  external  evidence  as  could  be  brought 
to  prove  the  reality  of  any  occurrence  whatever.     And  so   far 
from  finding  any  inherent  improbability  in  their  narrative^  I  can 
only  say  for  myself,  that  its  internal  evidence  is  to  my  mind  quite 
as  strong  as  its  external.     The  subject  of  it  was  obviously  one  of 
that  class   of  young  women   who   are   known  to  every    medical 
practitioner  as  peculiarly  liable  to   "  possession "  by  dominant 
ideas ;    and   this    possession    manifested    itself    in   a   periodical 
"ecstasy,"  a  form  of  natural  somnambulism,  in  which  the  mind, 
entirely  closed  to  the  external  world,  is  given  up  entirely  to  its 
own  contemplations.     Her  current  of  thought  and  feeling  in  this 
state  uniformly  ran  in  the  direction  of  the  Saviour's  Passion,  the 
whole  scene  of  which  seemed  to  pass  before  her  mind,  as  might 
be  judged  from  her  expressive  actions  ;  and  a  strong  evidence  of 
the  reality  of  the  condition  was  afforded  by  the  fact  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  testimony  of  the  medical  witnesses,  each  fit  terminated 
in  a  state  of  extreme  physical  prostration,  which  could  not  have 
been  simulated — the  pulse  being  scarcely  perceptible,  the  breath- 
ing slow  and  feeble,  and  the  whole  surface  bedewed  with  a  cold 


222  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

perspiration.  Now  the  transudation  of  blood  from  the  skin 
through  the  orifices  of  the  perspiratory  ducts,  under  strong 
emotional  excitement,  being  a  well-authenticated  physiological 
fact,  there  seems  to  me  nothing  in  the  least  degree  improbable  in 
the  narrative ;  on  the  contrary,  any  one  who  accepts  the  "  charm- 
ing away"  of  warts,  and  the  cure  of  more  serious  maladies,  as 
results  of  a  strongly  excited  "  expectant  attention,"  will  regard 
the  stigmatization  of  an  Ecstatica  as  the  natural  result  of  the 
intense  concentration  of  her  thoughts  and  feelings  on  a  subject 
that  obviously  had  a  peculiar  attraction  for  them. 

Thus  the  belief  of  the  Catholic  partizan  in  the  "  miraculous  " 
theory,  that  of  his  Protestant  opponent  in  the  "cheat"  theory, 
and  that  of  the  scientific  physiologist  in  the  "  natural  "  tlieory,  all 
of  which  have  the  same  external  testimony  as  one  of  their  factors, 
are  severally  governed  by  the  "personal  equation"  which  consti- 
tutes the  other  factor, — namely,  that  antecedent  mental  state  which 
really  settles  the  value  to  be  assigned  to  the  external  testimony, 
by  what  it  regards  as  the  inherent  probability  or  improbability  of 
the  fact,  and  thus  indirectly  determines  the  "  preponderance  of 
evidence."  Either  may,  if  he  thinks  proper,  accuse  each  of  the 
two  others  of  being  "  prejudiced  "  in  favour  of  his  own  particular 
belief;  but  the  "prejudice"  is  simply,  in  each  case,  a  resultant 
of  previous  training.  I,  on  the  one  hand,  who  accept  the  scien- 
tific explanation,  have  no  right  to  charge  the  devout  Catholic  with 
absurd  superstition,  because,  having  been  brought  up  in  the  belief 
that  miracles  are  worked  at  the  present  day  for  the  authentication 
of  Divine  truth,  he  accepts  this  particular  case  as  belonging  to 
the  "  miraculous  "  category ;  but  he,  on  the  other,  is  not  entitled 
to  brand  me  as  a  sceptic  or  an  infidel,  because,  having  been 
brought  up  in  the  belief  that  the  age  of  miracles  has  ceased,  my 
scientific  studies  lead  me  to  a  rational  explanation  of  the  facts 
which  I  agree  with  him  in  accepting.  I  may  fairly,  however, 
deny  the  right  of  his  Protestant  opponent  to  question  either  the 
honesty  or  the  competence  of  witnesses,  whose  prepossessions 
were  obviously  rather  against  than  in  favour  of  the  genuineness 
of  the  phenomena;  merely  because,  while  refusing  to  admit 
their  "miraculous"  character,  he  has  not  given  sufficient  atten- 
tion  to   the   body   of  evidence    relating    to    the    influence    of 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY   OF  BELIEF  223 

mental   upon  bodily   states,*   to    be    able    to    recognize    their 
"naturalness." 

I  would  now  ask  you  to  accompany  me  in  the  examination  of 
a  still  more  remarkable  phenomenon,  which  attracted  considerable 
attention  some  years  ago,  but  of  which  nothing  (so  far  as  I  know) 
has  been  lately  heard ;  that,  namely,  which  the  late  Mr.  Braid  of 
Manchester  termed  "  human  hybernation."     It  is  known  to  most 
persons  who  have   resided  long  in   India,   that    certain    Hindoo 
devotees  are  reputed  to  have  the  power  of  passing  at  will  into  a 
condition  of  death-like  torpor,  and  of  remaining  for  days  or  even 
weeks  in  that  condition  without  the  loss  of  their  vitality,  so  that 
they  may  be  resuscitated  by  appropriate  means,  although  they 
have  been  all  that  time  buried  so  securely  in  a  vault,  as  to  be 
absolutely  cut  off  from  supplies   of  food,   and   almost  entirely 
secluded  from  air.     But  I  suppose  that  there  are  few  who  have 
regarded  such  statements  as  deserving  of  any  serious  attention  ; 
the  wonderful  jugglery  by  which  the  celebrated  "tree  trick"  is 
performed,  being,  it  may  be  supposed,  quite  adequate  to  impress 
witnesses   of  no  extraordinary  penetration   with  a  belief  in  the 
genuineness  of  phenomena  that  were  merely  contrived  for  the 
purpose  of  deceit     But  the  narratives  which  Mr.  Braid  obtained 
from  witnesses  not   only  of  unimpeachable  veracity    but  of  the 
fullest  competence,  to  whom  every  facility  for  the  most  careful 
scrutiny  was  accorded,  put  the   matter  in  an  entirely  different 
light.     In  one  of  these  cases,  vouched  for  by  Sir  Claude  Wade, 
who  was  long  our  political  agent  at  the  Court  of  Runjeet  Singh, 
the  fakeer  was  buried  in  an  underground  cell  for  six  weeks  ;  and 
having  been  twice  dug  out  by  Runjeet  Singh  during  that  period, 
was  found  on  each  occasion  in  precisely  the  same  condition  of 
apparent  death  as  when  first  buried.     In  another  case,  mentioned 
by  Lieutenant  Boileau,  in  his  "  Narrative  of  a  Journey  in  Raj- 
warra,"  in  1835,  the  man  had  been  buried  for  ten  days,  in  a  grave 
lined  with  masonry  and  covered  with  large  slabs  of  stone,  and 
strictly  guarded ;  and  he  assured  Lieutenant  Boileau  that  he  was 
ready  to  submit  to  an  interment  of  a  twelvemonth's  duration,  if 
desired.     In  a  third  case,  cited  by  Mr.  Braid,  the  trial  was  made 
under  the  direct  supervision  of  a  British  officer,  a  period  of  nine 
*  See  Dr.  Tuke's  work  on  the  "  Influence  of  the  Mind  on  the  Body." 


224  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

days  having  been  stipulated  for  on  the  part  of  the  devotee  ;  but 
the  officer,  fearing  that  he  might  incur  blame  if  the  result  should 
be  fatal,  had  the  fakeer  dug  out  on  the  third  day,  without  any 
previous  notice.  In  each  case  we  have  the  testimony  of  British 
medical  officers  as  to  the  condition  of  the  body  when  exhumed ; 
and  in  this  all  the  narratives  agree.  Its  appearance  was  perfectly 
corpse-like  ;  no  pulsation  could  be  detected  either  in  the  heart  or 
in  the  arteries  (there  was  no  stethoscopy  in  those  days) ;  and 
there  were  no  perceptible  movements  of  breathing.  The  means 
of  restoration  employed  by  the  attendants  of  the  saint  were  just 
what  we  should  ourselves  employ  in  a  case  of  "  suspended  anima- 
tion ; "  namely,  friction  of  the  surface,  the  application  of  warmth, 
and  the  administration  of  stimulants  as  soon  as  the  power  of 
swallowing  returned. 

Still  it  may  be  said  that  it  is  so  intrinsically  improbable,  not 
to  say  impossible,  that  a  state  of  apparent  death  could  be  self- 
induced  in  the  first  instance,  and  could  then  endure  for  weeks  (to 
say  nothing  of  months)  without  the  absolute  loss  of  vitality,  that 
it  is  more  likely  that  even  these  most  competent  and  trustworthy 
witnesses  were  deceived,  than  that  the  facts  really  happened  as 
narrated  by  them.  And  a  determined  sceptic  might  feel  himself 
justified  in  likening  their  narratives  to  the  wonderful  stories  told 
by  Marco  Polo,  as  to  the  chain  thrown  up  into  the  air,  the 
climbing-up  of  this  chain  by  a  boy  until  he  was  out  of  sight,  the 
falling  to  the  ground  of  his  head,  body,  and  limbs  in  separate 
pieces,  and  their  spontaneous  reunion,  so  that  the  boy  got  up 
and  walked  alive  and  whole  in  the  presence  of  a  circle  of 
spectators. 

But  the  scientific  physiologist,  as  in  the  preceding  instance, 
sees  a  clue  to  the  rational  explanation  of  the  cases  of  the  buried 
fakeers  ;  which  leads  him  to  view  the  testimony  given  in  regard 
to  them  by  the  cautious,  sceptical,  and  well-informed  witnesses 
who  vouch  for  them,  in  a  very  different  light  from  that  of  the 
wonder-loving  traveller  of  the  middle  ages. 

In  the  first  place,  the  state  of  "  suspended  animation "  or 
"apparent  death"  is  one  of  which  the  existence  cannot  be 
denied;  since  it  is  continually  produced  by  drowning,  and  some- 
times occurs  spontaneously.     And  that  such  a  state  might  be 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  225 

maintained  in  India  under  the  circumstances  described,  for  a 
much  longer  period  than  in  this  country,  may  be  fairly  attributed 
to  the  warmth  of  the  tropical  soil ;  which  will  prevent  any  con- 
siderable reduction  of  the  temperature  of  the  body  buried  in  it, 
notwithstanding  the  almost  entire  suspension  of  its  internal  heat- 
producing  operations.  Again,  it  has  been  experimentally  ascer- 
tained that  even  warm-blooded  mammals,  whose  hybernation  is 
profound,  can  be  kept  under  water  for  an  hour  or  more  without 
injury ;  although,  in  their  ordinary  condition  of  activity,  they 
would  be  killed  by  a  submersion  of  three  or  four  minutes.  And 
thus  there  is  nothing,  in  the  almost  complete  privation  of  air, 
that  militates  against  the  probability  that  the  buried  fakeer  might 
remain  enclosed  in  a  narrow  vault,  without  suffering  from  the 
want  of  it ;  for  the  nearly  complete  suspension  of  all  the  functions 
of  life  will  reduce  the  demand  for  air,  as  for  food,  almost  to  zero. 

But,  secondly,  there  is  to  the  well-informed  physiologist  no 
inherent  improbability  in  the  self-induction  of  this  curious  con- 
dition. For,  in  the  first  place,  he  has  the  standard  case  of  Colonel 
Townsend,  which  no  medical  authority  has  ever  ventured  to  call 
in  question,  so  high  was  the  authority  of  Dr.  Cheyne,  the  eminent 
physician  by  whom  it  was  recorded.  And  Mr.  Braid,  in  the  course 
of  his  experiments  on  that  form  of  artificial  somnambulism  which 
he  termed  hypnotism,  met  with  several  cases  (of  which  I  myself 
saw  more  than  one)  in  which  the  self-induction  of  that  state  pro- 
duced a  marked  lowering  of  the  pulse  and  respiration ;  the  reduc- 
tion being  such  in  one  instance  as  seriously  to  alarm  Mr.  Braid, 
and  to  necessitate  the  immediate  termination  of  the  experiment. 

The  inherent  improbability  of  the  asserted  phenomena,  then, 
being  thus  weakened  or  even  removed  by  scientific  inquiry,  we 
are  free  to  attach  whatever  weight  to  the  testimony  in  their  favour 
we  may  think  it  deserves  on  its  own  account.  And  I  long  since 
expressed  my  own  conviction,  that  though  we  may  scarcely 
accept  that  testimony  as  affording  a  satisfactory  basis  for  positive 
assurance,  we  have  no  right  whatever  to  refuse  to  believe  it.  1  he 
case  seemed  to  me  to  be  one  fairly  calling  for  that  "  suspension 
of  the  judgment,"  which  our  great  Faraday  used  to  advocate,  as 
preferable  in  many  instances  to  that  premature  "  making  up  of 
our   minds,"  which   often   involves  either   our   /^«-making    them 


226  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

again  at  some  subsequent  time  when  fresh  evidence  has  been 
adduced,  or  our  persistence,  from  mere  obstinacy,  in  a  belief 
which  we  should  not  have  adopted  in  the  first  instance,  if  the 
whole  case  had  been  then  before  us. 

But  having  happened  long  since  to  speak  on  the  subject  to 
Professor  Max  Miiller,  I  learned  from  him  the  additional  very 
important  fact,  that  this  condition  of  self-induced  suspension  of 
vital  activity  forms,  as  it  were,  the  climax  of  a  whole  series  of 
states,  with  two  of  which  I  was  myself  very  familiar — "electro- 
biology,"  or  artificial  reverie,  and  "  hypnotism,"  or  artificial  som- 
nambulism ;  both  of  them  admirably  studied  by  Mr.  Braid, 
through  whose  kindness  I  had  many  opportunities  of  investigating 
their  phenomena.  The  self-induction  of  these  states,  practised  by 
the  Hindoo  devotees,  is  part  of  a  system  of  religious  philosophy 
which  is  termed  the  Yoga  ;  and  by  the  kindness  of  Professor  Max 
Miiller  I  possess  a  very  curious  account  of  this  philosophy,  printed 
at  Benares  twenty-two  years  ago,  by  Sub-Assistant  Surgeon  Paul, 
who  had  carefully  studied  it.  It  appears  from  this  that  the  object 
of  the  whole  system  is  to  induce  a  state  of  mystical  self-contempla- 
tion, tending  to  the  absorption  of  the  soul  of  the  individual  into 
the  Supreme  Soul,  the  Creator,  Preserver,  and  Destroyer  of  the 
World  ;  and  that  the  lower  forms  of  it  consist  in  the  adoption  of 
certain  fixed  postures,  which  seem  to  act  much  in  the  same  way 
with  the  fixation  of  the  vision  in  Mr.  Braid's  methods.  The  first 
state,  pi-dndydma,  corresponds  very  closely  with  that  of  reverie  or 
abstraction ;  the  mind  being  turned  in  upon  itself  and  entirely 
given  up  to  devout  meditation,  but  the  sensibility  to  external  im- 
pressions not  being  altogether  suspended.  The  second  state, 
pratydhdra,  is  one  which — the  external  senses  being  closed,  while 
the  mind  is  still  active — corresponds  with  some  forms  of  somnam- 
bulism. Those  who  have  attained  the  power  of  inducing  this 
condition,  then  practise  dhardna,  a  stage  of  complete  quiescence  of 
body  and  mind,  corresponding  with  what  is  known  as  catalepsy, — 
the  body  remaining  in  any  posture  in  which  it  may  be  placed. 
From  this  they  pass  into  the  d/iydna,  in  which  they  believe  them- 
selves to  be  surrounded  by  flashes  of  external  light  or  electricity, 
and  thus  to  be  brought  into  communion  with  the  Universal  Soul, 
which  endows  them  with  a  clairvoyant  power.     And  the  final 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  227 

State  of  samctdhi,  which  they  themselves  liken  to  the  hybernation 
of  animals,  and  in  which  the  respiratory  movements  are  suspended, 
is  regarded  as  that  of  absolute  mental  tranquillity,  which,  according 
to  these  mystics,  is  the  highest  state  which  man  can  attain ;  the 
individual  being  absolutely  incapable  of  committing  sin  in  thought, 
act,  or  speech,  and  having  his  thoughts  completely  occupied  with 
the  idea  of  Brahma,  or  the  Supreme  Soul,  without  any  effort  of 
his  own  mind. 

From  this  point  of  view,  then,  the  history  of  the  buried  fakeers 
presents  a  new  significance  ;  for  so  far  from  being  an  exceptional 
phenomenon,  this  self-induced  state  of  suspended  animation  is 
one  towards  which  the  whole  of  their  system  of  religious 
philosophy  tends,  and  for  which  it  provides,  as  it  were,  both  the 
physical  and  the  mental  education.  And  the  evidence  thus 
derived  from  an  entirely  independent  source,  of  the  inherent 
probability  of  occurrences  whose  narration  first  called  forth 
nothing  but  incredulity,  seems  now,  in  my  judgment,  sufficient 
to  give  a  very  decided  preponderance  to  the  scale  of  positive 
belief 

Now  it  is  obvious  that  the  state  of  belief  of  each  one  of 
yourselves,  to  whom  the  subjects  of  the  three  cases  I  have  now 
discussed  may  be  entirely  new,  will  be  mainly  determined  by  the 
confidence  you  may  be  severally  predisposed  to  place  in  my 
scientific  knowledge.  You  may  reasonably  conclude  that, 
although  not  a  professed  physicist,  I  should  not  declare  to  you 
my  conviction  that  a  man  may  hold  his  hand  unharmed  in  a 
stream  of  molten  iron,  without  having  the  strongest  grounds  for 
that  assurance  which  the  confirmation  of  a  priori  scientific  proba- 
bility can  furnish  to  the  testimony  of  competent  and  unpre- 
judiced witnesses.  And  those  of  you  who  may  know  me  not 
only  as  a  physiologist,  but  as  one  who  has  for  thirty  years  made 
a  special  study  of  the  border-ground  between  physiology  and 
psychology,  will  perhaps  be  disposed  to  think  that  I  should  not, 
without  adequate  reason,  speak  to  you  of  the  stigmatization  of 
Louise  Lateau,  and  of  the  buried  life  of  the  Hindoo  Yogi,  as  not 
to  be  lightly  put  aside  as  cheats,  but  to  be  entertained  as  matters 
of  serious  investigation.  In  each  of  these  cases,  however,  the 
question   is   obviously   one   as   to   which   the  decision   between 


228  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

testimony  and  the  dictates  of  common  sense  depends  upon 
special  knowledge ;  the  negative  verdict  which  ahnost  every 
person  of  average  intelhgence  would  almost  unhesitatingly  pro- 
nounce, being  liable  to  reversal  by  the  lightening  of  the  scale  of 
general  experience,  while  fresh  weights  are  put  by  special  in- 
vestigation into  the  scale  of  testimony.  And  the  "  personal 
equation "  which  determines  the  belief  of  each  individual  who 
does  not  work  out  the  inquiry  for  himself,  here  consists  mainly  in 
his  confidence  in  the  knowledge  and  judgment  of  another  person. 
The  evidentiary  facts  on  which  his  scientific  guide  relies,  may  be 
utterly  meaningless  to  himself;  but  he  accepts  them,  as  the 
merchant  would  a  bill  of  exchange,  on  that  guide's  assurance  of 
their  worth;  and  the  "preponderance  of  evidence,"  like  the 
balance  of  an  account,  is  decided  accordingly.  If  any  one 
who  is  either  disqualified  by  ignorance  from  rightly  appreciating 
the  value  of  the  evidentiary  facts,  or  is  unwilling  to  take  the 
trouble  of  investigating  the  case,  claims  to  dispose  of  it  in  an 
off-hand  way  in  accordance  with  his  "  common  sense  "  notions,  we, 
who  have  studied  the  subject,  take  leave  to  tell  him  that  it  is  a 
case  requiring  the  z/;zcommon  sense  that  only  special  culture  can 
bestow,  without  the  possession  of  which  his  judgment  is  altogether 
worthless. 

But  I  have  now  to  direct  our  inquiry  to  that  class  of  beliefs, 
which  relate  to  matters  lying  within  the  scope  of  ordinary 
reason,  upon  which  every  thoughtful  man  feels  himself  not  only 
competent  but  called  upon  to  decide  for  himself,  and  yet  as  to 
which  there  is  no  less  a  diversity  in  the  judgments  formed  upon 
the  same  evidence,  than  there  is  in  the  cases  we  have  already 
considered. 

While  the  world  has  been  too  ready  to  charge  with  moral 
culpability  those  who  depart  from  the  beaten  tracks  of  religious 
or  scientific  orthodoxy,  independent  thinkers  seem  to  me  to  have 
often  been  unjust  as  well  as  unwise  in  flinging  back  the  accusa- 
tion, and  in  imputing  to  those  whose  mental  development  has 
taken  place  under  a  particular  system,  and  whose  whole  intel- 
lectual and  moral  nature  has  shaped  itself  into  conformity  with 
that  system,  either  a  wilful  blindness  to  evidence  which  at  once 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  229 

carries  conviction  to  their  own  minds,  or  an  intellectual  incapacity 
to  appreciate  it.  For,  as  I  shall  now  endeavour  to  show  you,  the 
ordinary  beliefs  of  every  individual  are  mainly  determined  by  a 
"personal  equation"  not  less  definite  than  that  of  the  man  who 
has  studied  some  particular  subject,  though  it  is  the  exponent 
rather  of  his  general  than  of  his  special  culture.  Here  we  shall 
find  it  convenient  to  resume  our  former  comparison,  and  liken  the 
mind  of  each  individual  to  an  edifice, — palace,  dwelling-house,  or 
cottage,  as  the  case  may  be, — which,  though  partially  furnished, 
still  has  some  of  its  rooms  entirely  empty,  while  in  others  there 
are  recesses,  nooks,  and  corners  remaining  to  be  filled,  or  perhaps 
only  a  few  pegs  on  which  some  lighter  articles  may  be  loosely 
hung. 

Now  it  seems  to  me  that  our  immediate  acceptance  or  rejec- 
tion of  the  propositions  daily  coming  before  us,  as  to  which  our 
judgment  does  not  need  to  be  specially  informed,  but  which  the 
ordinary  common  sense,  or  acquired  instinct,  of  an  average  man 
is  quite  competent  to  decide,  is  determined  on  exactly  the  same 
principle,  as  our  acceptance  or  rejection  of  (let  us  say)  a  book- 
case, which  may  be  offered  as  likely  to  suit  a  certain  recess 
in  our  library.  For  just  as  our  decision  is  guided  in  the  latter 
case  by  i\\Q  fifting-in  of  the  piece  of  furniture  to  the  vacant  nook, 
so  does  our  intellectual  assent  to  a  new  proposition  depend  upon 
its  fitting-in  to  some  appropriate  place  in  our  existing  fabric  of 
thought.  The  fit  of  this  new  bookcase  may  be  so  perfect,  that 
we  have  no  question  whatever  about  retaining  it ;  and  it  gradually, 
by  use  and  habit,  becomes  to  ourselves  as  much  a  part  of  the 
library,  as  if  it  had  grown  into  its  walls.  And  so  a  new  belief,  for 
which  an  appropriate  place  is  ready  in  our  fabric  of  thought,  and 
which  precisely  fits  into  that  place,  not  only  obtains  immediate 
acceptance,  but  ere  long  (if  not  called  in  question)  is  adopted 
into  the  fabric  itself 

But,  again,  the  fit  of  the  bookcase  may  not  be  perfect  in  the 
first  instance,  and  yet  we  may  think  so  well  of  its  general 
suitableness  as  not  to  like  to  let  it  go  ;  and  we  then  consider 
whether  by  some  slight  alteration  either  of  the  bookcase  or  of  the 
recess,  we  can  bring  about  an  adjustment.  If  this  can  be  done, 
we  keep  the  bookcase ;  if  it  cannot,  we  send  it  back.     Even  so, 


230  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

tlie  new  proposition  may  not  in  the  first  instance  find  any  place 
in  our  fabric  of  thought  into  which  it  can  be  received ;  and  yet 
its  want  of  accordance  may  be  so  slight,  as  to  lead  us  to  examine 
whether  we  cannot  make  it  fit  by  some  process  of  accommoda- 
tion ; — either  our  recess  being  widened  by  argument  and  dis- 
cussion, or  the  proposition  being  narrowed  by  the  Hmitation  of  its 
terms.  If  we  can  thus  bring  about  a  satisfactory  "fit,"  we  accept 
the  proposition  as  part  of  our  intellectual  furniture;  if  not,  we 
dismiss  it, — at  any  rate  for  a  time. 

Now  in  this  intellectual  judgment,  it  seems  clear  to  me  that 
the  will  is  no  more  involved  at  the  moment  of  making  it,  than  it 
is  in  that  which  is  determined  by  the  "preponderance  of  evidence." 
For  if  there  be  a  complete  suitableness,  or  a  complete  unsuitable- 
ness,  between  the  new  proposition  and  the  vacant  recess  in  our 
fabric  of  thought,  we  accept  it  without  hesitation  in  the  one  case, 
we  feel  compelled  to  reject  it  in  the  other.     So  far,  then,  it  is 
true  that  "  we  are  no  more  responsible  for  our  opinions  than  we 
"are  for  the  colour  of  our  skin."     But,  whenever  the  proposition 
comes  to  be  the  subject  of  discussion, — whether  we  are   simply 
canvassing  the  practicability  of  fitting  it  into  our  recess,  or  are 
carrying  it  through  the  whole  procedure  of  a  trial  on  its  merits, 
the  will  comes  to  exert  a  powerful  influence  on  the  result ;  as 
is  truly   expressed   by   that  proverbial  embodiment  of  universal 
experience,  that  "we  easily  believe  what  we  wish."     How,  then, 
upon  the  theory  of  the  instinctive  or  automatic  nature  of  assent 
which  I  have  been  endeavouring  to  establish,  is  this  influence 
exerted  ? 

In  those  old  political  trials,  which  are  now  happily — so  far  as 
our  own  country  is  concerned — only  matters  of  history,  it  not 
unfrequently  happened  that  the  prisoner's  life  or  death,  whilst 
determined  by  the  verdict  of  a  jury  honestly  meaning  to  be  im- 
partial, really  depended  on  the  partizan  conduct  of  the  presiding 
judge.  For  though  the  jury  were  all  sworn,  and  really  intended, 
to  give  a  "  true  verdict  according  to  evidence,"  yet  the  judge  had 
it  largely  in  his  power  to  determine  which  way  the  balance  should 
incline.  In  the  first  place,  he  might  refuse  even  to  consider  the 
objections  which  the  prisoner's  counsel  was  fully  justified  in  taking 
to  the  indictment,  and  might  accept  the  reply  of  the  crown-lawyer 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  231 

as  all  sufficient,  when  it  did  not  really  meet  one  of  the  points 
raised  for  the  defence.  Again,  while  treating  the  witnesses  for  the 
Crown  with  the  utmost  consideration,  assuming  the  truth  of  every 
statement  they  may  make,  and  placing  every  obstacle  in  the  way 
of  the  sifting  of  their  testimony  by  cross-examination,  he  treated 
the  witnesses  for  the  defence  as  if  they  were  utterly  unworthy  of 
credit,  and  allowed  the  crown-counsel  the  utmost  licence  in  his 
endeavour  to  lower  the  value  of  their  testimony  by  unjustifiable 
insinuations  or  bullying  assumptions.  And  in  his  "  summing-up," 
he  would  so  forcibly  present  to  the  jury  both  the  law  and  the 
evidence  on  one  side,  and  so  determinately  keep  down  the  force 
of  law  and  evidence  on  the  other,  that  the  jury  might  be  honestly 
compelled,  even  against  their  own  prepossessions,  to  give  a  most 
iniquitous  verdict. 

And  so  in  the  discussion  of  a  question  of  intellectual  truth,  the 
will  has  the  power  of  keeping  some  considerations  more  or  less 
completely  out  of  view,  whilst  it  increases  the  force  of  others  by 
fixing  the  attention  upon  them.  Another  familiar  proverb,  that 
"  there  are  none  so  blind  as  those  that  won't  see,"  precisely 
expresses  the  way  in  which  the  will  thus  exerts  its  influence. 
For  as  the  opponents  of  the  Copernican  system  refused  to  look 
at  the  satellites  of  Jupiter  through  the  telescope  of  Galileo,  so  there 
are  too  many  who  wilfully  turn  away  the  eyes  of  their  minds  from 
inconvenient  truths  ;  or  refuse  to  get  a  gleam  of  sunshine  into 
the  dark  chambers  of  their  intellects,  where  they  hide  as  sacred 
treasures  the  antiquated  beliefs  of  past  ages,  the  worthlessness 
of  which  would  be  at  once  apparent  if  the  full  light  of  day  were 
permitted  to  shine  in  upon  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  will,  when  inspired  by  the  habitual 
desire  to  act  on  the  highest  principles  of  right,  determinately 
blinds  us,  not  only  to  the  direct  promptings  of  self-interest,  but 
to  those  arguments  which  we  instinctively  feel  to  be  soi)histical, 
though  we  may  not  be  able  logically  to  expose  their  fallacy;  just 
as  Nelson  at  Copenhagen  turned  his  blind  eye  to  the  signal  for 
his  recall,  which  he  did  not  think  it  for  the  honour  of  his  country 
to  obey. 

But  we  must  now  carry  this  inquiry  a  step  further  back ;  and 
consider  where  the  responsibility  lies  for  the  construction  of  that 


232  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

fabric  of  thought,  the  shape  and  dimensions  of  whose  recesses 
determine  the  admissibiUty  of  the  beliefs  that  constitute  its 
furniture. 

The  general  plan  of  that  fabric  may  be  said  to  be  determined 
by  our  congenital  constitution.  Every  being  is,  in  the  first  in- 
stance, what  Nature  made  him  ;  and  however  much  his  capacities 
and  tendencies  may  be  developed  and  modified  by  subsequent 
influences,  these  cannot  build  up  any  superstructure  that  was  not, 
as  it  were,  sketched  out  in  the  original  design.  The  foundations 
are  laid,  and  the  basement-storey  reared,  by  the  education  and 
training  we  receive ;  and  while  we  are  in  no  degree  responsible 
for  this  in  the  first  instance,  we  gradually  come  to  be  so  more  and 
more,  as  we  acquire  that  power  of  volitional  selection,  by  which 
we  can  regulate  the  action  of  our  intellectual  faculties,  and  de- 
termine the  choice  of  its  objects — so  far,  at  least,  as  this  may  be 
left  to  ourselves.  But  it  is  during  this  period  of  our  lives  that  we 
are  most  powerfully,  though  unconsciously,  influenced  by  that 
aggregate  of  external  influeuces  which  the  ancient  Greeks  desig- 
nated as  the  No'/xos — a  term  we  sometimes  translate  as  "  custom  " 
and  sometimes  "law,"  and  which  may  be  considered  as  expressing 
that  custom  which  has  the  force  of  law,  and  which  has  become  so 
completely  a  "  second  nature  "  as  to  be  less  easily  changed  than 
any  written  law.  Of  this  No^aos  the  "caste"  of  India  is  doubtless 
the  most  conspicuous  example  j  but  no  observant  mind  can  fail 
to  recognize  the  applicability  to  our  own  social  condition  of  the 
admirable  account  given  by  Mr.  Grote  of  the  Greek  conception  of 
that  "  King  of  all"  (to  borrow  the  phrase  cited  by  Herodotus  from 
Pindar),  which  "exercises  plenary  power,  spiritual  as  well  as 
"  temporal,  over  individual  minds ;  moulding  the  emotions  as  well 
"as  the  intellect,  according  to  the  local  type — determining  the 
"sentiments,  the  belief  and  the  predisposition  in  regard  to  new 
"matters  tendered  for  belief,  of  every  one — fashioning  thought, 
"speech,  points  of  view,  no  less  than  action — and  reigning 
"under  the  appearance  of  habitual,  self-suggested  tendencies." 
— {^Plato  and  the  other  Companio?is  of  Sokratcs,  vol.  i.  p.  249.) 

The  physiologist  who  believes  that  during  the  whole  period  of 
growth,  the  brain  is  shaping  itself  according  to  the  mode  in  which 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  233 

it  is  habitually  exercised,  and  that  the  nerve-tracks  then  laid  down 
are  maintained  through  life,  even  though  disused,  far  more  per- 
sistently than  any  that  result  from  subsequent  mental  modifica- 
tions, will  most  fully  realize  to  himself  the  extreme  importance  of 
this  No/.tos — the  influence  unconsciously  exerted  by  the  family  life, 
the  public  opinion  of  the  school  and  college,  and  the  usages  and 
habits  of  thought  and  feeling  of  the  particular  social  class  as  a 
member  of  which  the  youth  makes  his  first  entrance  into  the 
world — not  only  in  moulding  the  moral  character,  but  in  building 
up  the  fabric  of  thought.  And  it  operates  in  this  special  way — 
that  it  shapes  our  mental  recesses  to  the  forms  and  dimensions  of 
certain  ancestral  pieces  of  furniture  that  are  waiting  to  be  put  into 
them  ;  so  that  as  the  fabric  is  growing  up,  and  one  room  is  ready 
after  another,  these  respectable  beliefs  find  their  appropriate 
places  ;  the  recipient  never  dreams  of  questioning  their  inherent 
use  and  value,  because  they  "  fit "  in  so  perfectly ;  and  so  long  as 
nothing  occurs  to  make  him  doubt  the  security  of  his  walls,  and 
he  does  not  experience  any  special  inconvenience  from  the  antique 
awkwardness  of  his  furniture,  he  continues  to  give  it  a  place,  to 
the  exclusion  of  articles  of  newer  fashion  and  more  attractive 
exterior. 

In  so  far,  then,  as  the  fabric  of  thought  of  each  individual 
has  been  built  up  by  influences  external  to  himself,  he  cannot  be 
regarded  as  in  any  sense  responsible  for  his  acceptance  of  beliefs 
which  that  fabric  has  been  shaped  to  receive ;  but  he  does 
become  responsible,  when  the  time  comes  for  him  to  think  for 
himself,  to  examine  into  the  foundations  of  his  knowledge,  to  test 
the  goodness  of  its  materials,  and  to  try  the  security  of  its  con- 
struction. Any  one  who  is  restrained  from  doing  this,  whether  by 
passive  indolence  or  by  timorous  apprehension  of  the  possible 
results  of  inquiry,  either  to  his  own  worldly  interests  or  to  those 
of  others,  is  liable  some  time  or  other  to  find  his  fabric  of  thought 
overthrown,  and  himself  buried  in  its  ruins ;  and  even  though  no 
wave  should  dash,  no  lightning-flash  should  shatter,  it  may  ulti- 
timately  fall  to  pieces  from  sheer  decay.  Every  one,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  recognizes  his  obligation  to  make  the  best  use  in  his 
power  of  the  faculties  with  which  he  finds  himself  gifted,  and  who 
looks  at  the  search  for  truth  as  his  noblest  object,  the  attainment 


234  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

of  it  as  his  most  glorious  prize,  will  be  constantly  on  the  watch  for 
opportunities  of  improving  his  fabric  of  knowledge,  and  of  per- 
fecting its  furniture  of  beliefs.     Now  in  doing  this,  he  will  find 
that  as  his  fabric  is  altered  (or  rather,  alters  itself),  his  furniture 
must  be  changed  in  accordance  with  it ;  for  the  enlargement  of 
one  of  his  apartments   may  enable  him  to  give  place  to  some 
article  which  he  was  formerly  obliged  to  reject,  whilst  the  reduc- 
tion of  another  may  crowd    out    the    fittings   which  were    once 
most  perfectly  suited  to  it.     Every  one  who  has  gone  through  a 
sufficiently  long  course  of  intellectual  experiences,  and  has  been 
accustomed  to  reflect  upon  them,  must  be  conscious  that  this  has 
often  occurred  to  himself.     He  is  surprised,  on  turning  over  the 
records  of  his  earlier  beHefs,  to  find  how  many  of  them  he  would 
now  absolutely  reject ;  not  because  they  have  been  disproved  by 
additional  evidence,  but  because  he  has  himself  grown  out  of  them. 
And  it  is,  further,  by  the  use  of  the  power  which  every  man 
possesses  of  enlarging^  as  well  as  improving,  his  fabric  of  thought, 
by  applying  himself  to  the  acquirement  of  new  knowledge,  that 
he  gains  a  vastly  increased  capacity  for  the  reception  of  a  nobler 
and  grander  order  of  beliefs,  such  as  he  would   have  previously 
thought  it  impossible  t*liat  he  could  ever  come  to  possess.     Sup- 
pose an  American  professor  to  have  come  over,  a  dozen  years 
ago,  to  announce  to  the  scientific  public  of  Europe,  that  he  had 
devised  and  perfected  a  method  by   which   he  was  enabled  to 
recognize    in   the   incandescent   atmosphere  of  the   sun  at  least 
seventeen  of  the  component  elements  of  our  own  globe ;  that  he 
had  discovered  the  most  notable  of  these  to  be  hydrogen,  which, 
heated  to  redness,  forms  a  glowing  envelope  ordinarily  at  least 
five  thousand  miles  thick,   whence  fiery  tongues  are   shot  forth 
from  time  to  time,  sometimes  to  the  height  of  fifty  thousand  miles 
in  a  few  minutes,  their  disappearance  being  often  as  rapid  as  their 
projection  ;  and  that  he  had  ascertained  the  sun-spots  to  be  the 
centres  of  circular  storms,  sometimes  revolving  at  the  rate  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  miles  per  second,  which  are  set  in  motion  by 
a  downward  rush  of  metallic  vapours,  dependent  on  a  local  cooling 
that  can  only  be  measured  by  thousands  of  degrees ;  what  would 
have  been  our  mental  attitude?      These  propositions  would,  to 
most  of  us,  whether  scientific  or  unscientific,  have  seemed  so  com- 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  235 

pletetely  inadmissible  into  our  fabric  of  thought,  that  we  should 
have  suspected  our  American  friend  of  amusing  himself  by  trying 
upon  us  one  of  those  ingenious  hoaxes  for  which  his  countrymen 
have  shown  a  special  aptitude. 

Let  us  suppose  our  professor  to  have  further  assured  us  that 
he  was  able  by  the  same  method  to  determine  the  existence  of 
many  of  the  terrestrial  elements  even  in  the  fixed  stars ;  that  he 
had  found  hydrogen  not  only  to  be  universally  present,  but  to 
perform  the  leading  part  in  those  changes  which  give  rise  in 
certain  cases  to  the  known  variations  in  their  brightness  (a  star 
previously  invisible  to  the  naked  eye  suddenly  blazing  out  with  a 
lustre  surpassing  that  of  Jupiter,  and  declining  almost  as  rapidly) ; 
and  that  he  was  further  able  to  prove  that  many  of  these  luminaries 
have  a  motion  of  approach  to  or  recession  from  us,  such  as  no 
measurement  of  their  angular  positions  could  detect,  no  telescopic 
scrutiny  would  lead  us  even  to  surmise,  though  its  rate  may  be 
fifty  miles  per  second ;  we  should  scarcely  have  been  unreasonable 
in  regarding  his  statements  as  ingenious  inventions  devised  to  try 
how  far  our  credulity  might  extend. 

And  if,  not  satisfied  with  this,  he  ventured  a  still  higher  flight, 
and  had  assured  us  that  he  had  obtained  by  the  same  simple 
method  the  solution  of  that  grand  astronomical  problem — the 
constitution  of  the  nebulae — which  the  ablest  observers,  armed 
with  the  largest  and  most  perfect  instruments,  had  declared  to 
be  beyond  their  ken  ;  and  that  he  could  classify  the  irresolvable 
nebulae  with  certainty  into  those  which  are  mere  whiffs  of  vapour, 
and  those  which  are  aggregations  of  stars  too  remote  to  be  sepa- 
rately discerned ; — we  should,  I  think,  have  begun  to  respect  his 
imaginative  power  for  the  sublimity  of  its  conceptions,  while  the 
extravagance  of  this  last  assertion  would  have  seemed  fully  to 
justify  our  repudiation  of  the  whole  series  as  utterly  destitute  of 
any  claim  on  our  belief 

But  suppose  that  our  Transatlantic  visitor,  instead  of  laying 
his  claims  before  an  incredulous  public,  had  privately  brought 
together  some  half-dozen  of  the  most  eminent  physicists  of 
Europe,  who  were  acquainted  with  all  that  had  been  previously 
learned  as  to  the  constitution  of  the  solar  spectrum,  and  the  modi- 
fications produced  in  flame  by  the  presence  of  certain  chemical 
II 


236  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

elements ;  —he  would  have  been  able  in  a  brief  space,  not  only  to 
satisfy  them  of  the  soundness  of  his  basis,  but  to  erect  upon  that 
basis  a  new  and  substantial  addition  to  their  fabric  of  knowledge, 
culminating  in  a  lofty  "heaven-kissing"  tower,  of  which  every 
stone  should  be  so  firmly  and  variously  knitted  to  every  other,  as 
to  leave  no  room  for  any  suspicion  of  insecurity.  And  having,  by 
the  strictest  methods  of  observation  and  experiment,  verified  his 
statements — step  by  step — as  to  all  those  facts  which  are  capable 
of  direct  demonstration,  and  having  become  fully  assured,  in  the 
course  of  their  inquiries,  of  their  visitor's  personal  good  faith,  they 
would  have  found  no  difficulty  in  crediting  his  accounts  of  those 
celestial  marvels  of  rare  occurrence,  which  it  would  be  altogether 
beyond  his  power  to  reproduce. 

I  do  not  know  anymore  remarkable  fact  in  the  Psychology  of 
Belief,  than  the  universality  with  which  even  the  most  wonderful — 
I  might  say  the  most  romantic — results  of  Spectrum  Analysis  have 
been  accepted  as  sober  truth,  not  merely  by  the  whole  scientific 
world,  but  by  the  general  public.  And  this  universality  is,  I  think, 
to  be  attributed  to  these  two  conditions  : — first,  that  the  absolute 
concurrence  of  scientific  men  on  this  subject  gives  to  their  state- 
ments the  value  (if  I  may  so  express  myself)  of  bank-notes,  which 
any  one  may  convert  into  the  standard  gold  of  personal  knowledge, 
merely  by  inquiring  into  the  matter  for  himself ; — and  secondly, 
that  these  results  are  additions  to  our  previous  knowledge,  and  do 
not  run  counter  to  any  established  beliefs.  But  suppose  they  had 
done  so,  would  they  have  been  the  less  true  in  themselves,  or 
have  possessed  any  the  less  claim  on  universal  acceptance  ?  The 
old  beliefs  would  clearly  have  had  to  give  place  in  this  instance,  as 
they  have  had  to  do  in  many  previous  cases,  to  the  new  knowledge. 
With  one  more  practical  application  of  this  method  of  study- 
ing the  psychology  of  belief,  I  must  bring  this  discourse  to  a 
conclusion. 

I  alluded  at  its  commencement  to  a  great  scientific  hypothesis, 
which  is  now  on  its  trial  at  the  bar  of  public  opinion,  and  which, 
if  adopted  as  a  principle  of  construction,  will  give  a  new  shape  to 
a  large  part  of  our  fabric  of  thought ;  and  I  would  say  a  few 
words  of  what  seems  to  me  the  spirit  in  which  that  trial  should 
be  conducted.     There  are   many   of  our  securest  beliefs,  which 


THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  BELIEF.  237 

de])end  on  the  convergence  of  a  number  of  separate  probabilities 
towards  a  common  centre,  while  none  of  them  are  complete  as 
proofs ;  the  whole  of  what  is  commonly  termed  "circumstantial" 
evidence  being,  in  fact,  of  this  character.  And  just  as  the  value 
of  the  "  circumstances  "  depends  on  the  testimony  of  experts, — 
a  case  of  poisoning,  for  example,  requiring  the  analysis  of  the 
chemist,  and  the  examination  of  the  morbid  appearances  by  a 
pathologist, — so  must  the  hypothesis  of  evolution  be  ultimately 
either  established  or  disprovetl  by  its  accordance  or  disaccordance 
with  a  vast  aggregate  of  facts  of  Nature,  which  belong  to  different 
departments  of  scientific  inquiry.  The  geologist  traces  the  suc- 
cession of  plants  and  animals  in  palseontological  order,  and  finds, 
as  he  advances  in  his  studies,  less  and  less  evidence  of  interrup- 
tion, and  more  and  more  of  continuity,  biological  as  well  as 
physical.  The  zoologist  and  botanist,  who  have  been  accustomed 
to  classify  their  multitudinous  and  diversified  forms  of  plants  and 
animals  according  to  their  "  natural  affinities,"  find  a  real  meaning 
in  their  classification,  a  new  significance  in  their  terms  of  relation- 
ship, when  these  are  used  to  represent  what  might  be  regarded 
with  probability  as  actual  community  of  descent.  The  morpho- 
logist  who  has  been  accustomed  to  trace  a  "  unity  of  type  "  in 
each  great  group,  and  especially  to  recognize  this  in  the  presence 
of  rudimentary  parts  which  must  be  entirely  useless  to  the  animals 
that  possess  them,  delights  in  the  new  idea  which  gives  a  perfect 
rationale  of  what  had  previously  seemed  an  inexplicable  super- 
fluity. And  the  embryologist,  who  carries  back  his  studies  to  the 
earliest  phases  of  development,  and  follows  out  the  grand  law  of 
Von  Baer,  "  from  the  general  to  the  special,"  in  the  evolution  of 
every  separate  type,  finds  the  extension  of  that  law  from  the  indi- 
vidual to  the  whole  succession  of  organic  life,  impart  to  his  soul 
a  feeling  of  grandeur,  like  that  which  the  physical  philosopher 
of  two  hundred  years  ago  must  hive  experienced,  when  Newton 
first  promulgated  the  doctrine  of  universal  gravitation.  And 
lastly,  when  the  doctrine  of  evolution  is  looked  at  in  its  moral 
aspect,  as  one  which  leads  man  ever  onwards  and  upwards,  and 
which  encourages  his  brightest  anticipations  of  the  ultimate 
triumph  of  truth  over  error,  of  knowledge  over  ignorance,  of 
right  over  wrong,  of  good  over  evil,  who  shall  presume  to  say 


238  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

that  the  convergence  of  all  these  great  lines  of  thought,  each 
of  them  the  resultant  of  the  patient  toil  of  a  whole  army  of 
scientific  workers,  is  a  fact  of  no  account?  Absolute  truth,  no 
man  of  science  can  ever  hope  to  grasp  ;  for  he  knows  that  all 
human  search  for  it  must  be  limited  by  human  capacity.  But 
he  denies  the  right  of  any  one  else  to  impose  upon  him,  as 
"  absolute  truth,"  his  own  fallible  exposition  of  the  revelation  con- 
veyed in  the  teachings  of  religiously-inspired  men ;  for  he  claims 
an  equal  right  to  be  accounted  a  true  expositor  of  the  revelation 
conveyed  in  the  Divine  Order  of  the  Universe.  And  the  real 
philosopher,  who  fixes  his  hope  on  a  perpetual  approximation  to 
that  absolute  truth  which  he  may  never  actually  grasp— who,  for- 
getting those  things  which  are  behind,  is  always  reaching  forth 
to  those  which  are  before — who  tends  towards  perfection,  without 
ever  //rtending  to  it — and  who  is  constantly  striving  upwards,  so 
as  either  himself  to  reach,  or  to  help  his  successors  to  reach,  a  yet 
loftier  elevation — believes  that  he  is  thus  best  fulfilling  his  duty  to 
the  Great  Giver  of  his  own  powers  of  thought,  and  to  the  Divine 
Author  of  that  Nature  in  which  he  deems  it  his  highest  privilege 
to  be  able  to  read  some  of  the  thoughts  of  God. 


VIIL 

ON  THE  FALLACIES  OF  TESTIMONY   IN   RELATION 
TO    THE    SUPERNATURAL. 

^Contemporary  Review^  January,  1876.] 

No  one  who  has  studied  the  history  of  science  can  fail  to  recog- 
nize the  fact,  that  the  rate  of  its  progress  has  been  in  great  degree 
commensurate  with  the  degree  oi  freedom  from  any  kind  of  pre- 
possession with  which  scientific  inquiry  has  been  conducted.  And 
the  chapters  of  Lord  Bacon's  *'  Novum  Organon,"  in  which  he 
analyzes  and  classifies  the  prejudices  that  are  apt  to  divert  the 
scientific  inquirer  from  his  single-minded  pursuit  of  truth,  have 
rightly  been  accounted  among  the  most  valuable  portions  of  that 
immortal  work.  To  use  the  felicitous  language  of  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown,  "  the  temple  which  Lord  Bacon  purified  was  not  that  of 
"  nature  herself,  but  the  temple  of  the  mind ;  in  its  innermost 
"sanctuaries  were  the  idols  which  he  overthrew;  and  it  was  not 
*'  till  these  were  removed,  that  truth  would  deign  to  unveil  herself 
"to  adoration." 

Every  one,  again,  who  watches  the  course  of  educated  thought 
at  the  present  time,  must  see  that  it  is  tending  towards  the  exer- 
cise of  that  trained  and  organized  common  sense  which  we  call 
"  scientific  method,"  on  subjects  to  which  it  is  legitimately  applic- 
able within  the  sphere  of  religious  inquiry.  Science  has  been 
progressively,  and  in  various  ways,  undermining  the  old  "  bases 
of  belief;"  and  men  in  almost  every  religious  denomination,  ani- 
mated by  no  spirit  but  that  of  reverent  loyalty  to  truth,  are  now 
seriously  asking  themselves,  whether  the  whole  fabric  of  what  is 


240  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

commonly  regarded  as  authoritative  revelation  must  not  be  care- 
fully re-examined  under  the  searching  light  of  modern  criticism, 
in  order  that  what  is  sound  may  be  preserved  and  strengthened, 
and  that  the  insecurity  of  some  parts  may  not  destroy  the  stability 
of  the  whole. 

I  notice,  further,  among  even  "  orthodox  "  theologians  of  the 
present  time,  indications  of  a  disposition  to  regard  the  New 
Testament  miracles  rather  as  encumbrances,  than  as  props,  to 
what  is  essential  in  Christianity ;  of  a  feeling  that  they  are  rather 
to  be  explained  away,*  than  adduced  as  authoritative  attestations 
of  the  teachings  of  Jesus  ; — and  of  a  perception  that  to  attempt  to 
enforce  a  belief  in  them  on  the  part  of  the  rising  generation,  will 
be  either  to  alienate  from  the  acceptance  of  those  teachings  many 
of  the  most  cultured  and  most  earnest  young  people  of  our  time, 
or  to  reduce  their  minds  to  that  state  of  unreasoning  subservience 
to  authority,  which  finds  its  only  logical  basis  in  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church.  And,  moreover,  I  observe  it  to  be  among 
those,  in  various  religious  denominations,  who  are  converging  to 
tbe  conclusion  that  the  "authority"  of  Christianity  most  surely 
consists  in  the  direct  appeal  it  makes  to  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  mankind, — who  most  fully  recognize  in  the  life, 
teaching,  and  death  of  Christ,  that  manifestation  of  the  Divine 
(d7raT;yao-yu.a  t^s  co^t^s  koX  ^apaKTr]p  t^s  iiTroorTacrews  avrov)  which 
constitutes  him  their  Master  and  Lord,^and  who  most  earnestly 
and  constantly  aim  to  fashion  their  own  lives  on  the  model  of  his, 
— that  there  is  the  greatest  readiness  to  admit  that  the  records 
of  that  life  are  tinged  by  the  prepossessions,  and  subject  to  the 
inaccuracies,  to  which  all  human  testimony  is  liable. 

It  was  nobly  said  thirty  years  ago  f  (I  believe  by  Francis 
Newman)  that  "  every  fresh  advance  of  certain  knowledge  appa- 
"  rently  sweeps  off  a  portion  of  (so-called)  religious  belief,  duf  only 
"  to  leave  the  true  religious  element  more  and  more  pure  ;  and  in 

*  Thus  theoloj^ians  of  the  "philosophic"  school  argue  that  miracles  are 
not  to  be  regarded  as  departures  from  the  Divine  order,  but  are  parts  of  the 
order  originally  settled  in  the  Divine  mind — as  typified  by  the  well-known 
illustration  supplied  by  Mr.  Babbage  from  his  calculating-machine.  But  this 
obviously  puts  altogether  on  one  side  the  notion  of  miracles  as  extraordinary 
interpositions,  involving  a  more  direct  personal  agency  than  the  ordinary 
uniformity. 

\  Frospective  Review^  vol,  i.  p.  53. 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTIMONY.  241 

'■'■proportion  to  its  purify  will  be  its  ifijliience  for  good,  and  for  good 
"  07ily;  "  and  that  "  little  as  many  are  aware  of  it,  faithlessness  is 
"  often  betrayed  in  the  struggle  to  retain  in  the  region  of  faith  that 
"which  is  already  passing  into  the  region  of  science,  for  it  implies 
"  doubt  of  the  value  of  truth."  Thoroughly  sympathizing  with  this 
view, — in  no  spirit  of  hostility  to  what  is  commonly  regarded  as 
revealed  truth, — but  with  a  desire  to  promote  the  discriminating 
search  for  what  really  constitutes  revealed  truth, — I  offer  the 
following  suggestions,  arising  out  of  the  special  studies  which 
have  occupied  a  large  part  of  my  life,  to  the  consideration  of  such 
as  may  deem  them  worthy  of  attention. 

That  the  whole  tendency  of  recent  scientific  inquiry  has  been 
to  strengthen  the  notion  of  "  continuity "  as  opposed  to  "  cata- 
clysms "  and  "  interruptions,"  and  to  substitute  the  idea  of  pro- 
gressive "  evolution"  for  that  of  "special  creations,"  cannot  but 
be  obvious  to  every  one  who  is  familiar  with  the  progress  of  in- 
quiry in  astronomy,  physical  geology,  palaeontology,  and  biology. 
But  the  scientific  theist  who  regards  the  so-called  "  laws  of 
nature  "  as  nothing  else  than  man's  expressions  of  so  much  of  the 
Divine  order  as  it  lies  within  his  power  to  discern,  and  who  looks 
at  the  uninterruptedness  of  this  order  as  the  highest  evidence  of 
its  original  perfection,  need  lind  (as  it  seems  to  me)  no  abstract 
difficulty  in  the  conception  that  the  Author  of  Nature  can,  if  He 
will,  occasionally  depart  from  it.  And  hence,  as  I  deem  it  pre- 
sumptuous to  deny  that  there  might  be  occasions  which  in  His 
wisdom  may  require  such  departure,  I  am  not  conscious  of  any 
such  scientific  "  prepossession  "  against  miracles,  as  would  pre- 
vent me  from  accepting  them  as  facts,  if  trustworthy  evidence  of 
their  reality  could  be  adduced.  The  question  with  me,  theretore, 
is  simply  : — "  Have  we  any  adequate  historical  ground  for  the 
"  belief  that  such  departure  has  ever  taken  place?" 

Now  it  can  scarcely  be  questioned  that  whilst  the  scientific 
probability  of  uniform  sequence  has  become  stronger,  the  value 
of  testimony  in  regard  to  departures  from  it  has  been  in  various 
ways  discredited  by  modern  criticism.  It  is  clear  that  tlie  old 
arguments  of  Lardner,  and  the  modern  reproduction  of  them  by 
Professor  Andrews  Norton  (Boston,  N.E.),  which  in  my  early 
days  were  held  as  demonstrating  the  "genuineness  of  the  Gos- 


242  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

pels,"  no  longer  possess  their  former  cogency.  .  For  the  question 
has  now  passed  into  a  phase  altogether  different  from  that  which 
it  presented  a  century  or  two  ago.  It  was  then,  "  Are  the  nar- 
"ratives  genuine  or  fictitious?  Did  the  narrators  intend  to  speak 
"  the  truth,  or  were  they  constructing  a  tissue  of  falsehoods  ?  Did 
"  they  really  witness  what  they  narrate,  or  were  they  the  dupes  of 
"  ingenious  story-tellers  ?  "  It  is  now,  "  Granting  that  the  narrators 
"wrote  what  they  firmly  believed  to  be  true,  as  having  themselves 
"  seen  (or  thought  they  had  seen)  the  events  they  recorded,  or  as 
"  having  heard  of  them  from  witnesses  whom  they  had  a  right  to 
"regard  as  equally  trustworthy  with  themselves;  is  their  belief  a 
"  sufficient  justification  for  ours  ?  What  is  the  extent  of  allowance 
"which  we  are  to  make  for  'prepossession' — (i)  as  modifying 
"their  conception  of  each  occurrence  at  the  time,  and  (2)  as 
"modifying  their  subsequent  remembrance  of  it.-*  And  (3),  in 
"cases  in  which  we  have  not  access  to  the  original  records,  what 
"  is  the  amount  of  allowance  which  we  ought  to  make  for  the 
"accretion  of  other  still  less  trustworthy  narratives  around  the 
"  original  nucleus  ?  " 

Circumstances  have  led  me  from  a  very  early  period  to  take 
a  great  interest  in  the  question  of  the  value  of  testimony,  and  to 
occupy  myself  a  good  deal  in  the  inquiry  as  to  what  is  scien- 
tifically termed  its  "subjective"  element.  It  was  my  duty  for 
many  years  to  study  and  to  expound  systematically  to  medical 
students  the  probative  value  of  different  kinds  of  evidence  ;  and 
my  psychological  interest  in  the  curious  phenomena  which, 
under  the  names  of  mesmerism,  odylism,  electro-biology,  psychic 
force,  and  spiritual  agency,  have  been  supposed  to  indicate  the 
existence  of  some  new  and  mysterious  force  in  nature,  led  me, 
through  a  long  series  of  years,  to  avail  myself  of  every  oppor- 
tunity of  studying  them  that  fell  within  my  reach.  The  general 
result  of  these  inquiries  has  been  to  force  upon  me  the  convic- 
tion, that  as  to  all  which  concerns  the  "  supernatural "  (using 
that  term  in  its  generally  understood  sense,  without  attempting  a 
logical  definition  of  it),  the  allowance  that  has  to  be  made  for 
"  prepossession  "  is  so  large,  as  practically  to  destroy  the  validity 
of  any  testimony  which  is  not  submitted  to  the  severest  scrutiny 
according  to  the  strictest  scientific  methods.     Of  the  manner  in 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTLMONY.  243 

which,  within  my  own  experience,  what  seemed  the  most  trust- 
worthy testimony  has  been  completely  discredited  by  the  appU- 
cation  of  such  methods,  I  shall  give  some  examples  hereafter. 

I  would  by  no  means  claim  for  myself  or  any  other  scientific 
man  an  immunity  from  idolatrous  prepossessions ;  for  we  must 
all  be  guided  in  our  researches  by  some  notion  of  what  we  expect 
to  find ;  and  this  notion  may  be  very  misleading.  Thus,  when 
no  metal  was  known  that  is  not  several  times  heavier  than  water, 
it  was  not  surprising  that  Dr.  Pearson,  as  he  poised  upon  his 
finger  the  first  globule  of  potassium  produced  by  the  battery  of 
Davy,  should  have  exclaimed,  "  Bless  me,  how  heavy  it  is  ! " 
though,  when  thrown  into  water,  the  metal  floated  upon  it. 
But  while  the  true  disciple  of  Bacon  is  on  his  guard  against 
"  idolatry,"  and  is  constantly  finding  himself  rudely  handled  (as 
Dr.  Pearson  was)  by  "  the  irresistible  logic  of  facts  "  if  he  falls 
into  it,  the  pledged  upholder  of  any  relij;ious  system  can  be 
scarcely  other  than,  in  some  degree,  an "  idolater."  The  real 
philosopher,  says  Schiller,  is  distinguished  from  the  "  trader  in 
knowledge  "  by  his  "  always  loving  truth  better  than  his  system." 

Bacon's  classification  of  "  idols  "  is  based  on  the  sources  of 
our  prepossessions;  and  although  his  four  types  graduate  in- 
sensibly into  each  other,  yet  the  study  of  them  is  very  profitable. 
Sir  John  Herschel  is,  I  think,  less  successful  when  he  classifies 
them  as  (i)  prejudices  of  opinion  and  (2)  prejudices  of  sense; 
because  an  analysis  of  any  of  his  "  prejudices  of  sense  "  shows 
that  it  is  really  a  "prejudice  of  opinion."  My  first  object  is  to 
show  that  we  are  liable  to  be  affected  by  our  prepossessions  at 
every  stage  of  our  mental  activity,  from  our  primary  reception 
of  impressions  from  without,  to  the  highest  exercise  of  our  reason- 
ing powers  ;  and  that  the  value  of  the  testimony  of  any  individual, 
therefore,  as  to  any  fact  whatever,  essentially  depends  upon  his 
freedom  from  any  prepossessions  that  can  affect  it. 

That  our  own  states  of  consciousness  constitute  what  are,  to 
each  individual,  the  most  certain  of  all  truths — in  a  philosophical 
sense  (as  J.  S.  Mill  says)  the  only  certain  truths — will,  I  suppose, 
be  generally  admitted  ;  but  there  is  a  wide  hiatus  between  this, 
and  the  position  that  every  state  of  consciousness  which  repre- 


244  NATURE   AND   MAN 

sents  an  external  object  has  a  real  object  answering  to  it.  In  fact, 
although  we  are  accustomed  to  speak  of  **  the  evidence  of  our 
senses"  as  worthy  of  the  highest  credit,  nothing  is  easier  than  to 
show  that  the  evidence  of  any  one  sense,  without  the  check 
afforded  by  comparison  with  that  of  another,  is  utterly  untrust- 
worthy. 

I  might  pile  up  instances  of  visual  illusion,  for  example,  in 
which  the  subject  would  be  ready  to  affirm  without  the  slightest 
hesitation  that  he  sees  something  which  greatly  differs  from  the 
object  that  actually  forms  the  picture  on  his  retina  ;  his  erroneous 
interpretation  of  that  picture  being  the  result  of  a  prepossession 
derived  from  antecedent  experience.  I  could  show,  too,  that  the 
same  picture  may  be  interpreted  in  two  different  modes :  a 
skeleton-diagram,  for  example,  suggesting  two  dissimilar  solid 
forms,  according  as  the  eyes  are  fixed  on  one  or  another  of  its 
angles ;  and  a  photograph  of  a  coin  or  fossil  being  seen  as  a 
cameo  or  as  an  intaglio,  according  as  the  position  of  the  light 
affects  the  interpretation  of  its  lights  and  shadows.  Again,  I 
have  before  me  two  pieces  of  card,  A  and  B,  of  similar  form  : 
when  A  is  placed  above  B,  the  latter  is  unhesitatmgly  pronounced 
the  larger  ;  if  their  relative  positions  be  reversed,  A  is  pronounced 
with  equal  conviction,  to  be  the  larger ;  3'et,  when  one  is  laid 
upon  the  other,  they  are  found  to  be  precisely  equal  in  size. 

So,  again,  in  those  more  complex  combinations  of  natural 
objects  which  the  pictorial  artist  aims  to  represent,  the  different 
modes  in  which  the  very  same  scene  shall  be  treated  by  two 
individuals  working  at  the  same  time  and  from  the  same  point  of 
view,  show  how  differently  they  interpret  the  same  visual  picture, 
according  to  their  original  constitution  and  subsequent  training. 
As  Carlyle  says,  "  The  eye  sees  what  it  brings  the  power  to  see." 

But  mental  prepossessions  do  much  more  than  this ;  they 
produce  sensations  having  no  objective  reality.  I  do  not  here 
allude  to  those  "  subjective  sensations  "  of  physiologists,  which 
depend  upon  physical  affections  of  nerves  in  their  course,  the 
circulation  of  poisoned  blood  in  the  brain  (as  in  the  delirium  of 
fever),  and  the  like ;  but  I  refer  to  the  sensations  produced  by 
mental  expectancy,  a  most  fertile  source  of  self-deception.  The 
medical    practitioner    is   familiar    with    these    in    the    case    of 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTIMONY,  245 

"  hysterical "  subjects ;  whose  pains  are  as  real  experiences  to 
them,  as  if  they  originated  in  the  parts  to  which  they  are 
referred.  And  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  "sensitives" 
of  Reichenbach  really  saw  the  llanies  they  described  as  issuing 
from  magnets  in  the  dark, — as  a  very  honest  and  highly  educated 
gentleman  assured  me  that  he  did,  not  only  when  the  magnet  was 
there,  but  when  he  believed  it  to  be  still  there  (in  the  dark),  after 
it  had  been  actually  withdrawn.  So  there  are  "  sensitives "  in 
whom  the  drawing  of  a  magnet  along  the  arm  will  produce  a 
sensible  aura  or  a  pricking  pain  ;  and  this  will  be  equally 
excited  by  the  belief  that  the  magnet  is  being  so  used,  when 
nothing  whatever  is  done. 

Now,  the  phenomena  of  which  these  are  simple  examples, 
appear  to  me  to  have  this  physiological  signification, — that 
changes  in  the  cerebrum  which  answer  to  the  higher  mental 
states,  act  downwards  upon  the  sensorium  at  its  base,  in  the 
same  manner  as  changes  in  the  organs  of  sense  act  upwards 
upon  it ;  the  very  same  state  of  the  sensorium  being  producible 
through  the  nerves  of  the  internal  and  of  the  external  senses,  and 
the  very  same  affection  of  the  sensational  consciousness  being 
thus  called  forth  by  impressions  ab  extra  and  ab  intra.  Thus 
individuals  having  a  strong  pictorial  memory  can  reproduce 
scenes  from  nature,  faces,  or  pictures,  with  such  vividness  that 
they  may  be  said  to  see  with  their  "  mind's  eye  "  just  as  distincdy 
as  with  their  bodily  eye  ;  and  there  is  an  instance  on  record 
(which  Mr.  Ruskin  fully  accredits,  as  well  from  having  seen  the 
two  pictures  as  from  his  own  similar  experiences)  in  which  a 
painter  at  Cologne  accurately  reproduced  from  memory  a  large 
altar-piece  by  Rubens,  which  had  been  carried  away  by  the 
French.  Those,  again,  who  possess  a  strong  pictorial  imagination, 
can  thus  create  distinct  visual  images  of  what  they  have  never 
seen  through  their  bodily  eyes.  And  although  this  power  of 
voluntary  representation  is  comparatively  rare,  yet  we  are  all 
conscious  of  the  phenomenon  as  occuring  involuntarily  in  our 
dreams. 

Now,  there  is  a  very  numerous  class  of  persons  who  are 
subject  to  what  may  be  termed  "  waking  dreams,"  which  they  can 
induce  by  placing  themselves  in  conditions  favourable  to  reverie ; 


246  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

and  the  course  of  these  dreams  is  essentially  determined  by  the 
individual's  prepossessions,  brought  into  play  by  suggestions  con- 
veyed from  without.  In  many  who  do  not  spontaneously  fall 
into  this  state,  fixity  of  the  gaze  for  some  minutes  is  quite  sufficient 
to  induce  it;  and  the  "mesmeric  mania"  of  Edinburgh  in  185 1, 
showed  the  proportion  of  such  susceptible  individuals  to  be  much 
larger  than  was  previously  supposed.  Those  who  have  had 
adequate  opportunities  of  studying  these  phenomena,  find  no 
difficulty  in  referring  to  the  same  category  many  of  the  "  spiritual- 
istic "  performances  of  the  present  time,  in  which  we  seem  to  have 
reproductions  of  states  that  were  regarded  in  ancient  times,  under 
the  influence  of  religious  prepossession,  as  results  of  divine 
inspiration.  I  have  strong  reason  to  believe  (from  my  conviction 
of  the  honesty  of  the  individuals  who  have  themselves  narrated  to 
me  their  experiences)  that  they  have  really  seen,  heard,  and  felt 
what  they  describe,  where  intentional  deception  was  out  of  the 
question  ;  that  is,  that  they  had  the  same  distinct  consciousness, 
in  states  of  expectant  reverie,  of  seeing,  touching,  and  conversing 
with  the  spirits  of  departed  friends,  that  most  of  us  occasionally 
have  in  our  dreams.  And  the  difference  consists  in  this — that 
whilst  one,  in  the  exercise  of  his  common  sense,  dismisses  these 
experiences  as  the  creation  of  his  own  brain,  having  no  objective 
reality,  the  other,  under  the  influence  of  his  prepossession,  accepts 
them  as  the  results  of  impressions  ab  extra  made  upon  him  by 
"  spiritual "  agencies. 

The  faith  anciently  placed,  by  the  Heathen  as  well  as  the 
Jewish  world,  in  dreams,  visions,  trances,  etc.,  has  thus  its  precise 
parallel  in  the  present  day  ;  and  it  is  not  a  little  instructive  to 
find  a  very  intelligent  religious  body,  the  Swedenborgians,  im- 
plicitly accepting  as  authoritative  revelation  the  visions  of  a  man 
of  great  intellectual  ability  and  strong  religious  spirit,  but  highly 
imaginative  disposition,  the  peculiar  feature  of  whose  mind  it  was 
to  dwell  upon  his  own  imaginings.  These  he  seems  to  have  so 
completely  separated  from  his  worldly  life,  that  the  Swedenborg 
who  believed  himself  to  hold  intercourse  with  the  spiritual  world, 
and  Swedenborg  the  mechanician  and  metallurgist,  may  almost  be 
regarded  as  two  distinct  personalities. 

If,   then,    the   high   scientitic   attainments   of   some   of   the 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTIMONY.  247 

prominent  advocates  of  "spiritualism,"  and  our  confidence  in 
their  honesty,  be  held  to  require  our  assent  to  what  they  narrate 
as  their  experiences,  in  regard  to  a  class  of  phenomena  which  they 
declare  that  they  have  witnessed,  but  which  they  cannot  reproduce 
for  the  satisfaction  of  other  men  of  science  who  desire  to  submit 
them  to  the  rigorous  tests  which  they  regard  as  necessary  to  sub- 
stantiate their  validity,  then  we  must,  in  like  manner,  accept  the 
records  of  Swedenborg's  revelations  as  binding  on  our  belief 
That  they  w^ere  true  to  him  I  cannot  doubt ;  and  in  the  same 
manner,  I  do  not  question  that  Mr.  Crookes  is  thoroughly  honest, 
when  he  says  that  he  has  repeatedly  witnessed  the  "  levitation  of 
the  human  body."  But  I  can  regard  his  statements  in  no  other 
light,  than  as  evidence  of  the  degree  in  which  certain  minds  are 
led  by  the  influence  of  strong  "  prepossession,"  to  believe  in  the 
creations  of  their  own  visual  imagination. 

All  history  shows  that  nothing  is  so  potent  as  religious  enthu- 
siasm, in  fostering  this  tendency  ;  the  very  state  of  enthusiasm,  in 
fact,  being  the  "  possession  "  of  the  mind  by  fixed  ideas,  which 
overbear  the  teachings  of  objective  experience.  These,  when 
directed  to  great  and  noble  ends,  may  overcome  the  obstacles 
which  deter  cooler  judgments  from  attempting  them  ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  may  also  move  not  only  individuals  but  great  masses 
of  people  to  extravagances  at  which  sober  common  sense  revolts  ; 
as  the  history  of  the  Flagellants,  the  dancing  mania,  and  other 
religious  epidemics  of  the  Middle  Ages  forcibly  illustrate.  And 
nothing  is  more  remarkable  in  the  history  of  these  epidemics,  than 
the  vividness  with  which  people  who  were  not  asleep,  saw  visions 
that  were  obviously  inspired  by  the  prevalent  religious  notions  of 
their  times.  Thus,  some  of  the  dancers  saw  heaven  opened,  and 
the  Saviour  enthroned  with  the  Virgin  Mary ;  whilst  others  saw 
hell  yawning  before  their  feet,  or  felt  as  if  bathed  in  blood  ;  their 
frantic  leaps  being  prompted  by  their  eagerness  to  reach  towards 
the  one  or  to  escape  from  the  other. 

In  the  next  place,  I  would  briefly  direct  attention  to  the  influ- 
ence of  prepossessions  on  those  interpretations  of  our  sensational 
experiences,  which  we  are  prone  to  substitute  for  the  statement  of 
the  experiences  themselves.  Of  such  misinterpretations,  the 
records  of  science  are  full  3  the  tendency  is  one  which  besets 


248  MATURE  AND   MAN. 

every  observer,  and  to  which  the  most  conscientious  have 
frequently  yielded  ;  but  I  do  not  know  any  more  striking  illustra- 
tions of  it  than  I  could  narrate  from  my  own  inquiries  into  mes- 
merism, spiritualism,  etc.  The  most  diverse  accounts  of  the 
facts  of  a  seance  will  be  given  by  a  believer  and  a  sceptic.  One 
will  declare  that  a  table  rose  in  the  air,  while  another  (who  had 
been  watching  its  feet)  is  confident  that  it  never  left  the  ground ; 
a  whole  party  of  believers  will  affirm  that  they  saw  Mr.  Home  float 
out  of  one  window  and  in  at  another,  whilst  a  single  honest 
sceptic  declares  that  Mr.  Home  was  sitting  in  his  chair  all  the 
time.  And  in  this  last  case  we  have  an  example  of  a  fact,  of 
which  there  is  ample  illustration,  that  during  the  prevalence  of  an 
epidemic  delusion  the  honest  testimony  of  any  number  of  indi- 
viduals on  one  side,  if  given  under  a  "prepossession,"  is  of  no  more 
weight  than  that  of  a  single  adverse  witness — if  so  much.  Thus 
I  think  it  cannot  be  doubted  by  any  one  who  candidly  studies  the 
witchcraft  trials  of  two  centuries  back,  that,  as  a  rule,  the  wit- 
nesses really  believed  what  they  deposed  to  as  facts  ;  and  it 
further  seems  pretty  clear  that  in  many  instances  the  persons 
incriminated  were  themselves  "  possessed  "  with  the  notion  of  the 
reality  of  the  occult  powers  attributed  to  them.  No  more  in- 
structive lesson  can  be  found,  as  to  the  importance  of  the 
"subjective"  element  in  human  testimony,  than  is  presented  in 
the  records  of  these  trials.  Thus,  Jane  Brooks  was  hung  at 
Chard  assizes  in  1658,  for  having  bewitched  Richard  Jones,  a 
sprightly  lad  of  twelve  years  old ;  he  was  seen  to  rise  in  the  air 
and  pass  over  a  garden  wall  some  thirty  yards  ;  and  nine  people 
deposed  to  finding  him  in  open  daylight,  with  his  hands  flat 
against  a  beam  at  the  top  of  the  room,  and  his  body  two  or  three 
feet  from  the  ground  !  If  this  "  levitation  of  the  human  body," 
confirmed  as  it  is  in  modern  times  by  the  testimony  of  Mr. 
Crookes,  Lord  Lindsay,  and  Lord  Adair,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
dozen  witnesses  to  Mrs.  Guppy's  descent  through  the  ceiling  of 
a  closed  and  darkened  room,  has  a  valid  claim  on  our  belief, 
how  are  we  to  stop  short  of  accepting,  on  the  like  testimony,  all 
the  marvels  and  extravagances  of  witchcraft  ?  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  put  these  witnesses  out  of  court,  as  rendered  un- 
trustworthy by  their  "prepossession,"  what  credit  can  we  attach 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTIMONY.  249 

to  the  testimony  of  any  individuals  or  bodies  dominated  by  a 
strong  religious  "  prepossession ; "  tiiat  testimony  having  neither 
been  recorded  at  the  time,  nor  subjected  to  the  test  of  judicial 
examination  ? 

Though  I  have  hitherto  spoken  of  "  prepossessions "  as  ide- 
ational states,  there  are  very  few  in  which  the  emotions  do  not 
take  a  share ;  and  how  strongly  the  influence  of  these  may 
pervert  the  representations  of  actual  facts,  we  best  see  in  that 
early  stage  of  many  forms  of  monomania,  in  which  there  are  as 
yet  no  fixed  delusions,  but  the  occurrences  of  daily  life  are 
wrongly  interpreted  by  the  emotional  colouring  they  receive.  But 
we  may  recognize  the  same  influence  in  matters  which  are  con- 
stantly passing  under  our  observation ;  and  a  better  illustration  of 
it  could  scarcely  be  found  than  in  the  following  circumstance, 
mentioned  to  me  as  having  recently  occurred  in  the  practice  of  a 
distinguished  physician : — The  head  of  a  family  having  been 
struck  down  by  serious  illness,  this  physician  was  called  in  to  con- 
sult with  the  ordinary  medical  attendant  ;  and  after  examining 
the  patient  and  conferring  with  his  colleague,  he  went  into  the 
sitting-room  where  the  family  were  waiting  in  anxious  expectation 
for  his  judgment  on  the  case.  This  he  delivered  in  the  cautious 
form  which  wise  experience  dictated  : — "  The  patient's  condition 
is  very  critical ;  but  I  see  no  reason  why  he  should  not  recover." 

One  of  the  daughters  screamed,  "  Dr. says  Papa  will  die  !  " 

another   cried   out,    in   a   jubilant   tone,    "  Dr.  says  Papa 

will  get  well."  If  no  explanation  had  been  given,  the  two 
ladies  would  have  reported  the  physician's  verdict  in  precisely 
opposite  terms,  one  being  under  the  influence  oi  fear,  the  other 
of  hope. 

I  shall  now  give  a  few  illustrative  examples,  from  recent  ex- 
periences, of  the  contrast  between  the  two  views  taken  of  the 
same  phenomena,  (i)  by  such  as  are  led  by  their  "prepossessions" 
at  once  to  attribute  to  "occult"  influences  what  they  cannot 
otherwise  explain,  and  (2)  by  those  who,  under  the  guidance  of 
trained  and  organized  common  sense,  apply  themselves  in  the 
first  instance,  to  determine  whether  there  be  anything  in  these 
phenomena  which  "natural"  agencies  are  not  competent  to 
account  for. 


250  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

1.  When,  in  1853,  the  "table-turning"  epidemic  had  taken  so 
strong  a  hold  of  the  public  mind,  that  Professor  Faraday  found 
himself  called  upon  to  explain  its  supposed  mystery,  he  devised 
a  very  simple  piece  of  apparatus  for  testing  the  fundamental 
question,  whether  there  is  any  evidence  that  the  movements  of 
the  table  are  due  to  anytlmig  else  than  the  muscular  action  of 
the  performers  who  place  their  hands  upon  it.  And  having 
demonstrated  by  its  means  (i)  that  the  table  never  went  round 
unless  the  "indicator"  showed  that  lateral  pressure  had  been 
exerted  in  the  direction  of  the  movement,  whilst  (2)  it  always 
did  go  round  when  the  'indicator'  showed  that  such  lateral 
pressure  was  adequately  exerted,  he  at  once  saw  that  the  phe- 
nomenon was  only  another  manifestation  of  the  involuntary 
"  ideo-motor "  action  which  had  been  previously  formulated,  on 
other  grounds,  as  a  definite  physiological  principle ;  and  that 
there  was,  therefore,  not  the  least  evidence  of  any  other  agency. 
Yet  it  is  still  asserted  that  the  validity  of  Faraday's  test  is  com- 
pletely disproved  by  the  conviction  of  the  performers  that  they 
do  not  exert  any  such  agency ;  all  that  this  proves  being  that 
they  are  not  conscious  of  such  exertion — which,  to  the  physio- 
logist, affords  no  proof  whatever  that  they  are  not  making  it. 

2.  So  again  Professors  Chevreul  and  Biot,  masters  of  ex- 
perimental science  worthy  to  be  placed  in  the  same  rank  with 
Faraday,  had  been  previously  applying  the  same  principles  and 
methods  to  the  systematic  investigation  of  the  phenomena  of 
the  Divining  rod  and  the  oscillations  of  suspended  buttons ; 
the  former  of  which  were  supposed  to  depend  upon  some 
"occult"  power  on  the  part  of  the  performer,  whilst  the  latter  were 
attributed  to  an  hypothetical  "odylic"  force.  And  they  con- 
clusively proved  that  in  both  cases  the  results  are  brought  about 
(as  in  table-turning)  by  the  involuntary  action  of  mental  ex- 
pectancy on  the  muscles  of  the  performer ;  the  phenomena 
either  not  occurring  at  all,  or  having  no  constancy  whatever, 
when  he  neither  knows  nor  guesses  what  to  expect. — The  follow- 
ing instance  of  the  application  to  the  phenomena  of  the  divining 
rod,  of  the  very  simple  test  of  closing  the  eyes,  has  lately  been 
sent  me  by  an  American  friend,  who  was  apparently  unaware  of 
its  former  application  by  Chevreul  and  Biot.     "  An  aged  clergy- 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTIMONY.  251 

"man  of  thorough  integrity,  has  for  many  years  enjoyed  the 
"  reputation  of  being  specially  skilled  in  the  finding  of  places  to 
"  dig  wells  by  means  of  the  *  divining  rod.'  His  fame  has  spread 
*'  far ;  and  the  accounts  that  are  given  by  him,  and  of  him,  must 
"  be  to  those  who  place  an  implicit  reliance  on  human  testimony 
"overwhelmingly  convincing.  He  consented  to  allow  me  to 
"  experiment  with  him,  and  I  found  that  only  a  few  moments 
"were  required  to  prove  that  his  fancied  gift  was  a  delusion.  In 
"  his  own  yard  there  was  known  to  be  a  stream  of  water  running 
"a  few  feet  below  the  surface,  through  a  small  pipe.  As  he 
"  marched  over  and  near  this,  the  rod  continually  pointed 
"  strongly  downwards,  and  several  times  turned  clear  over. 
"These  places  I  marked,  and  then  blindfolded  him,  and 
"marched  him  about  until  he  knew  not  where  he  was,  taking 
"him  over  the  same  ground  over  and  over  again  ;  and  although 
"  the  rod  went  down  a  number  of  times,  //  did  not  once  point  to 
"  or  near  the  places  indicated." 

3.  About  twenty-five  years  ago,  when  the  old  phenomena  of 
the  oscillations  of  suspended  buttons,  developed  by  Dr.  H.  Mayo 
into  a  pseudo-scientific  theory  of  od-force,  were  strongly  exciting 
public  attention,  a  medical  friend  of  great  intelligence,  then 
residing  in  the  south  of  France,  wrote  me  long  letters  giving  the 
results  of  his  surprising  experiences,  and  asking  what  I  regarded 
as  their  rationale.  My  reply  was  simply, — "  Shut  your  eyes,  and 
let  some  one  else  observe  the  oscillations."  In  a  short  time  I 
heard  from  him  again,  to  the  effect  that  his  re-investigation  of 
the  matter  under  this  condition  had  satisfied  him  that  there  was 
no  other  agency  concerned  than  his  own  involuntary  muscular 
movement,  directed  by  his  mental  expectancy  of  the  results  which 
would  ensue. 

In  the  foregoing  cases,  the  honest  beliefs  of  the  agents  them- 
selves brought  about  the  results ;  in  the  following,  these  beliefs 
were  taken  up  by  the  witnesses  to  the  performances  of  others,  in 
spite  of  all  common-sense  probability  to  the  contrary,  under  the 
influence  of  their  own  strong  "prepossessions." 

4.  At  a  spiritualistic  seance  at  which  I  was  present,  at  an  early 
stage  of  the  present  epidemic,  the  "  medium  "  pressed  down  one 


25: 


NATURE  AND  MAN. 


side  of  a  large  loo  table  supported  on  a  pedestal  springing  from 
three  spreading  feet,  and  left  it  resting  on  only  two  of  its  feet, 
with  its  surface  at  an  angle  of  about  45°.  Having  been  admitted 
to  this  seafice  under  a  promise  of  non-interference,  I  waited  until 
its  conclusion  ;  and  then,  going  over  to  the  table,  set  it  up  and 
left  it  in  the  same  position.  For  I  had  observed,  when  this  was 
done  by  the  "medium,"  that  the  edge  of  the  broad  claw  of  each 
foot,  and  the  edge  of  its  castor,  bore  on  the  ground  together,  so 
as  to  afford  a  base  which,  though  narrow,  was  sufficient  for  the 
table  to  rest  on,  its  weight  happening  to  be  balanced  when  thus 
tilted  half  over.  Several  persons  of  great  general  intelligence 
who  were  present  at  this  seance  (Mr.  Robert  Chambers  among 
the  rest),  assured  me  that  if  it  had  not  been  for  my  exposure  of 
this  trick,  they  should  have  gone  away  in  the  belief  that  the 
table  was  sustained  by  "  spiritual "  influence,  as  in  no  other  way 
could  they  suppose  it  to  have  kept  its  position  against  the  force 
of  gravity. 

5.  So  strong  was  the  impression  made  by  the  rope-tying  and 
other  performances  of  the  Davenport  Brothers,  about  twenty 
years  ago,  upon  those  who  were  already  prepossessed  in  favour 
of  their  "spiritualistic"  claims,  that  I  was  pressed  by  men  of 
distinguished  position  to  become  a  member  of  a  committee  for 
their  "  scientific  "  investigation.  Having  a  strong  prepossession, 
however,  in  favour  of  the  common-sense  view  that  these  per- 
formances were  but  the  tricks  of  not  very  clever  jugglers,  and 
learning  that  this  inquiry  was  to  take  place  in  a  darkened  room, 
and  that  the  members  of  the  committee  must  form  a  circle  with 
joined  hands,  I  at  once  declined  to  have  anything  to  do  with  it; 
on  the  ground  that,  to  exclude  the  use  of  the  eyes  and  hands, 
which  the  scientific  investigator  uses  as  his  chief  instruments  of 
research,  was  to  render  the  inquiry  utterly  nugatory.  Now  that 
the  tricks  of  the  Davenport  Brothers  have  been  not  merely 
imitated  but  surpassed  by  Messrs.  Cooke  and  Maskelyne,  I 
suppose  that  no  truly  "  rational "  person  would  appeal  to  them  as 
evidence  of  "  spiritual "  agency. 

6.  During  the  meeting  of  the  British  Association  at  Belfast 
in  1874,  a  lady  medium  of  great  repute  held  spiritualistic  5'^a«<:^i', 
at  which  she  distributed  flowers,  affirmed  to  have  been  brought 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTIMONY.  253 

to  her  then  and  there  by  the  spirits,  fresh  from  the  garden,  with 
the  dew  of  heaven  upon  them.  As  there  was  nothing  more  in 
this  performance  tlian  is  done  every  day  by  an  ordinary  conjuror, 
only  the  confidence  entertained  in  the  good  faith  of  the  medium 
could  justify  a  belief  in  the  "  spiritual "  transport  of  the  flowers  ; 
but  this  belief,  aided  by  the  general  "  prepossession,"  had  been 
implicitly  accepted  by  many  of  the  witnesses  on  such  occasions. 
An  inquisitive  young  gentleman,  however,  who  was  staying  in 
the  same  house,  and  did  not  share  in  this  confidence,  found  a 
basin-full  of  these  flowers  (hollyhocks)  in  a  garret,  with  a  decanter 
of  water  beside  it ;  and  strongly  suspecting  that  they  had  been 
stored  there  with  a  view  to  distribution  at  the  seance,  and  that 
the  dew  would  be  supplied,  when  wanted,  from  the  decanter,  he 
conveyed  into  the  water  a  chemical  substance  (ferrocyanide  of 
potassium),  in  quantity  so  small  as  not  to  tinge  it,  and  yet  to  be 
distinctly  recognizable  by  the  proper  test.  On  the  subsequent 
application  of  this  test  (a  per-salt  of  iron)  to  the  flowers  dis- 
tributed by  the  "  medium,"  they  were  found  to  give  Prussian  blue. 
— This  is  no  piece  of  hearsay,  but  a  statement  which  I  have  in  the 
hand  of  the  gentleman  himself,  with  permission  to  make  it  public. 

But  every  form  of  "  prepossession "  has  an  involuntary  and 
unsuspected  action  in  modifying  the  memorial  traces  of  past 
events,  even  when  they  were  originally  rightly  apprehended.  A 
gradual  change  in  our  own  mode  of  viewing  them  will  bring  us  to 
the  conviction  that  we  always  so  viewed  them  ;  as  we  recently  saw 
in  the  erroneous  account  which  Earl  Russell  gave  of  his  action  as 
Foreign  Secretary  in  the  negotiations  which  preceded  the  Crimean 
war.  His  subsequently  acquired  perception  of  what  he  should 
have  done  at  a  particular  juncture,  wrought  him  up  to  the  honest 
belief  that  he  really  did  it.  To  few  persons  of  experience  in  life 
has  it  not  happened  to  find  their  distinct  impressions  of  past 
events  in  striking  disaccordance  with  some  contemporary  nar- 
rative, as  perhaps  given  in  a  letter  of  their  own.  An  able  lawyer 
told  me  not  long  since  that  he  had  had  occasion  to  look  into  a  deed 
which  he  had  not  opened  for  twenty  years,  but  which  he  could 
have  sworn  to  contain  certain  clauses ;  and  to  his  utter  astonish- 
ment, tlic  clauses  were  not  to  be  found  in  it.     His  habitual  con- 


254  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

ception  of  the  purpose  of  the  deed  had  constructed  what  answered 
to  the  actual  memorial  trace. 

Now  this  constructive  process  becomes  pecuHarly  obvious,  in 
a  comparison  of  narratives  given  by  the  behevers  in  mesmerism, 
spirituahsjn,  and  similar  "  occult "  agencies,  when  there  has  been 
time  for  the  building-up  of  the  edifice, — with  contemporary  records 
of  the  events,  made  perhaps  by  the  very  narrators  themselves. 
Everything  which  tends  to  prove  the  reality  of  the  occult  influence, 
is  exaggerated  or  distorted  ;  everything  which  would  help  to  ex- 
plain it  away,  is  quietly  (no  doubt  quite  unintentionally)  dropped 
out.  And  convictions  thus  come  to  be  honestly  entertained,  which 
are  in  complete  disaccordance  with  the  original  facts.  This  source 
of  fallacy  was  specially  noticed  by  Bacon  : — 

"  When  the  mind  is  once  pleased  with  certain  things,  it  draws 
"all  others  to  consent,  and  go  along  with  them  ;  and  though  the 
"  power  and  number  of  instances  that  make  for  the  contrary,  are 
"  greater,  yet  it  either  attends  not  to  them,  or  despises  them,  or 
"  else  removes  them  by  a  distinction,  with  a  strong  and  pernicious 
"  prejudice  to  maintain  the  authority  of  the  first  choice  unviolated. 
"  And  hence  in  most  cases  of  superstition,  as  of  astrology,  dreams, 
"omens,  judgments,  etc.,  those  who  find  pleasure  in  such  kind 
"  of  vanities  always  observe  where  the  event  answers,  but  slif^ht  and 
'■'■pass  by  the  instances  ivhere  it  fails.,  which  are  much  the  more 
"  raunerousy — Novum  Organon. 

Of  the  manner  in  which  this  constructive  process  will  build  up 
a  completely  ideal  representation  of  a  personality  (with  or  without 
a  nucleus  of  reality),  which  shall  gain  implicit  acceptance  among  a 
whole  people,  and  be  currently  accepted  by  the  world  at  large,  we 
have  a  "  pregnant  instance "  in  the  William  Tell  tradition.  For 
the  progressive  narrowing-down  of  his  claims,  which  has  resulted 
from  the  complete  discordance  between  the  actions  traditionally 
attributed  to  him  and  trustworthy  contemporary  history,  leaves 
even  his  personality  questionable  ;  while  the  turning-up  of  the 
apple-story  in  Icelandic  sagas  and  Hindoo  myths  seems  to  put  it 
beyond  doubt  that  this,  at  any  rate,  is  drawn  from  far  older 
sources.  The  reality  of  this  process  of  gradual  accretion  and 
modirication,  in  accordance  with  current  ideas  in  regard  to  the 
character  of  an  individual  or  the  bearing  of  an  event,  cannot  now 


FALLACIES  OF  TESTLMONY.  255 

be  doubted  by  any  philosophic  student  of  history.  And  the 
degree  in  which  such  constiuctions  involve  ascriptions  of  super- 
natural power,  can  be  shown  in  many  instances  to  depend  upon 
the  prevalent  notions  entertained  as  to  what  the  individual  might 
be  expected  to  do. 

No  figure  is  more  prominent  in  the  early  ecclesiastical  history 
of  Scodand,  than  that  of  St.  Columba,  "the  Apostle  of  the  Scoto- 
Irish,"  in  the  sixth  century.  Having  left  Ireland,  his  native 
country,  through  having  by  his  fearless  independence  been  brought 
into  collision  with  its  civil  powers,  and  been  excommunicated  by 
its  church-synods,  he  migrated  to  Scotland  in  the  year  563,  and 
acquired  by  royal  donation  the  island  of  lona,  which  was  a 
peculiarly  favourable  centre  for  his  evangelizing  labours,  carried 
on  for  more  than  thirty  years  among  the  Picts  and  Scots,  and  also 
among  the  northern  Irish,  No  fewer  than  thirty-two  separate 
religious  foundations  among  the  Scots,  twenty-one  among  the 
Picts,  and  thirty-seven  among  the  Irish,  many  of  which  occupied 
conspicuous  places  in  the  monastic  history  of  the  earlier  Middle 
Ages,  seem  to  have  been  planted  by  himself  or  his  immediate 
disciples  ;  the  most  celel)rated  of  all  these  being  the  college  of  the 
Culdees  at  lona,  which  kept  alive  the  flame  of  learning  during  a 
prolonged  period  of  general  ignorance  and  superstition,  and  be- 
came a  centre  of  religious  influence,  which  extended  far  beyond 
the  range  of  its  founder's  personal  labours,  and  caused  his  memory 
to  be  held  in  the  deepest  veneration  for  centuries  afterwards. 
The  point  on  which  I  here  desire  to  lay  stress,  is  the  cofitinuity  of 
kistory,  as  trustworthy  as  any  such  history  can  be ;  the  incidents 
of  St.  Columba's  life  having  been  originally  recorded  in  the  con- 
temporary fasti  of  his  religious  foundation,  and  transmitted  in 
unbroken  succession  to  Abbot  Adamnan,  who  first  compiled  a 
complete  Vita  of  his  great  predecessor,  of  which  there  still  exists 
a  manuscript  copy,  whose  authenticity  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt, 
which  dates  back  to  the  early  part  of  the  eighth  century,  not  much 
more  than  one  hundred  years  after  St.  Columba's  death.  Now, 
Adamnan's  Vita  credits  its  subject  with  the  possession  of  every 
kind  of  miraculous  power.  The  saint  prophesied  events  of  all 
kinds,  trivial  as  well  as  grave,  from  battles  and  violent  deaths, 
down  to  the  spilling  of  an  inkhorn,  the  falling  of  a  book,  the 


256  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

omission  of  a  single  letter  from  a  writing,  and  the  arrival  of  guests 
at  the  monastery.  He  cured  nurhbers  of  people  afflicted  with 
inveterate  diseases,  accorded  safety  to  storm-tossed  vessels,  himself 
walked  across  the  sea  to  his  island  home,  drove  demons  out  of 
milk-pails,  outwitted  sorcerers,  and  gave  supernatural  powers  to 
domestic  implements.  Like  other  saints,  he  had  his  visions  of 
angels  and  apparitions  of  heavenly  light,  which  comforted  and 
encouraged  him  at  many  a  trying  juncture, — lasting,  on  one 
occasion,  for  three  days  and  nights. 

Now  it  seems  to  me  beyond  all  reasonable  doubt,  that  St. 
Columba  was  one  of  those  men  of  extraordinary  energy  of  cha- 
racter and  earnest  religious  nature,  who  have  the  power  of  strongly 
impressing  most  of  those  with  whom  they  come  into  contact, 
moulding  their  wills  and  awakening  their  religious  sympathies,  so 
as  to  acquire  a  wonderful  influence  over  them  \  this  being  aided 
by  the  commanding  personal  "  presence  "  he  is  recorded  to  have 
possessed.  And  it  is  not  surprising  that  when  themselves  the 
subjects  of  what  they  regarded  as  "supernatural"  power,  they  should 
attribute  to  him  the  exercise  of  the  same  power  in  other  ways. 
In  fact,  to  their  unscientific  minds  it  seemed  quite  "natural"  that  he 
should  so  exert  it ;  its  possession  being,  in  their  belief,  a  normal 
attribute  of  his  saintship.  That  he  himself  believed  in  his  gifts, 
and  that  many  wonders  were  actually  worked  by  the  concurrent 
action  of  his  own  faith  in  himself  and  his  followers'  faith  in  him, 
will  not  seem  unlikely  to  any  one  who  has  carefully  studied  the 
action  of  mental  states  upon  the  bodily  organism.  And  that  round 
a  nucleus  of  truth  there  should  have  gathered  a  large  accretion  of 
error,  under  the  influence  of  the  mental  preconception  whose 
modus  operandi  I  have  endeavoured  to  elucidate,  is  accordant  with 
the  teachings  of  our  own  recent  experience,  in  such  cases  as  that 
of  Dr.  Newton  and  the  Zouave  Jacob.  In  these  and  similar 
phenomena,  a  strong  conviction  of  the  possession  of  the  power  on 
the  part  ot  the  healer  seems  to  be  necessary  for  the  excitement  of 
the  faith  ot  those  operated  on ;  and  the  healer  recognizes,  by  a 
kind  of  intuition,  the  existence  of  that  faith  on  the  part  of  the 
patient.  Do  not  several  phrases  in  the  gospel  narratives  point  to 
the  same  relations  as  existing  between  Jesus  and  the  sufferers  who 
sought  his  aid  ?     The  cure  is  constantly  attributed  to  the  "  faith  " 


FALLACIES    OF   TESTIMONY.  257 

of  the  patient ;  whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  told  that  Jesus 
did  not  do  many  mighty  works  in  his  own  country  "  because  of 
their  unbehef,"  —  the  very  condition  which,  if  these  mighty  works 
had  been  performed  by  his  own  will  alone,  would  have  been 
supposed  to  call  forth  its  exertion,  but  which  is  perfectly  con- 
formable to  our  own  experience  of  the  wonders  of  mesmerism, 
spirituaUsm,  etc.  So  Paul  is  spoken  of  as  "  steadfastly  behold- 
ing "  the  cripple  at  Lystra,  "  and  seeing  that  he  had  faith  to  be 
healed." 

The  potency  of  influences  of  the  opposite  kind  upon  minds 
predisposed  to  them,  and  through  their  minds  upon  their  bodies, 
is  shown  in  the  "Obeah  practices"  still  lingering  among  the  negroes 
of  the  West  Indian  colonies,  in  spite  of  most  stringent  legislation. 
A  slow  pining  away,  ending  in  death,  has  been  the  not  unfrequent 
result  of  the  fixed  belief,  on  the  part  of  the  victim,  that  "Obi"  has 
been  put  upon  him  by  some  old  man  or  old  woman  reputed  to 
possess  the  injurious  power;  and  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
the  Obri  men  or  women  were  firm  believers  in  the  occult  power 
attributed  to  them. 

Every  medical  man  of  large  experience  is  well  aware  how 
strongly  the  patient's  undoubting  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  a  par- 
ticular remedy  or  mode  of  treatment  assists  its  action  ;  and  where 
the  doctor  is  himself  animated  by  such  a  faith,  he  has  the  more 
power  of  exciting  it  in  others.  A  simple  prediction,  without  any 
remedial  measure,  will  sometimes  work  its  own  fulfilment.  Thus, 
Sir  James  Paget  tells  of  a  case  in  which  he  strongly  impressed  a 
woman  having  a  sluggish,  non-malignant  tumour  in  the  breast, 
that  this  tumour  would  disperse  within  a  month  or  six  weeks  ;  and 
so  it  did.  He  perceived  the  patient's  nature  to  be  one  on  which 
the  assurance  would  act  favourably,  and  no  one  could  more 
earnestly  and  effectively  enforce  it. — On  the  other  hand,  a  fixed 
belief  on  the  part  of  the  patient  that  a  mortal  disease  has  seized 
upon  the  frame,  or  that  a  particular  operation  or  system  of  treat- 
ment will  prove  unsuccessful,  seems  in  numerous  instances  to  have 
been  the  real  occasion  of  the  fatal  result. 

Many  of  the  so-called  "  miracles  "  of  the  Romish  Church,  such 
as  that  of  the  "  Holy  Thorn  "  (narrated  in  the  History  of  the  Port 
Royalists)  which  stood  the  test  of  the  most  rigid  contemporary 


258  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

inquiry,  carried  on  at  the  prompting  of  a  hostile  ecclesiastical 
party,  seem  to  me  fully  explicable  on  the  like  principle  of  the 
action  of  strongly  excited  "faith  "in  producing  bodily  change, 
whether  beneficial  or  injurious  \  and  nothing  but  the  fact  that  this 
strong  excitement  was  called  forth  by  religious  influences,  which 
in  all  ages  have  been  more  potent  in  arousing  it  than  influences 
of  any  oiher  kind,  gives  the  least  colour  to  the  assumption  of  their 
supernatural  character. 

I  might  draw  many  other  illustrations  from  the  lives  of  the 
Saints  of  various  periods  of  the  Roman  C:.tholic  Church,  as  chro- 
nicled by  their  contemporaries,  many  of  whom  speak  of  themselves 
as  eye-witnesses  of  the  marvels  they  relate  ;  thus,  the  "  levitation 
of  the  human  body  " — i.e.,  the  rising  from  the  ground,  and  the 
remaining  unsupported  in  the  air  for  a  considerable  length  of  time 
■ — is  one  of  the  miracles  attributed  to  St.  Francis  d'Assisi.  But  it 
will  be  enough  for  me  to  refer  to  the  fact  that  some  of  the  ablest 
ecclesiastical  historians  in  the  English  Church  have  confessed  their 
inability  to  see  on  what  grounds — so  far  as  external  evidence  is 
concerned — we  are  to  reject  these,  if  the  testimony  of  th-e  Biblical 
narratives  is  to  be  accepted  as  valid  evidence  of  the  supernatural 
occurrences  they  relate. 

But  the  most  remarkable  example  I  have  met  with  in  recent 
times  of  the  "  survival  "  in  a  whole  community  of  ancient  modes 
of  thought  on  these  subjects  (the  etymological  meaning  of  the 
term  "superstition"),  has  been  very  recently  made  public  by  a 
German  writer,  who  has  given  an  account  of  the  population  of  a 
corner  of  Eastern  Austria,  termed  the  Bukowina,  a  large  propor- 
tion of  which  are  Jews,  mostly  belonging  to  the  sect  of  the 
Chassidim,  who  are  ruled  by  "Saints  "  or  "Just  Ones."  "These 
"  saints,"  says  their  delineator,  "  are  sly  impostors,  who  take  ad- 
"  vantage  of  the  fanaticism,  superstition,  and  blind  ignorance  of 
"  the  Cliassidim  in  the  most  barefaced  manner.  They  heal  the 
"  sick  by  pronouncing  magic  words,  drive  out  devils,  gain  lawsuits, 
"  and  their  curse  is  supposed  to  kill  whole  families,  or  at  least  to 
"  reduce  them  to  beggary.  Between  the  '  saint '  and  '  God  '  there 
"  is  no  mediator,  for  he  holds  personal  intercourse  with  the  Father 
"  of  all,  and  his  words  are  oracles.  Woe  to  those  who  should 
"  venture  to  dispute  these  miracles  in  the  presence  of  these  un- 


FALLACIES   OF  TEST/MONY.  259 

"  reasonable  fanatics  !    They  are  ready  to  die  for  their  superstitions 
"and  to  kill  those  who  dispute  them."  * 

Now  I  fail  to  see  what  stronger  external  evidence  there  is  of 
any  of  the  supernatural  occurrences  chronicled  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, than  that  which  is  afforded  by  the  assured  conviction  of  this 
Jewish  community  as  to  what  is  taking  place  at  the  present  time 
under  their  own  eyes.  And  assuming,  as  I  suppose  most  of  us 
should  be  ready  to  do,  that  the  testimony  to  these  contemporary 
wonders  would  break  down  under  the  rigorous  test  of  a  searching 
examination,  I  ask  whether  we  are  not  equally  justified  in  the 
assumption  that  a  similar  scrutiny,  if  we  had  the  power  to  apply 
it,  would  in  like  manner  dispose  of  many  of  the  narratives  of 
old  time,  either  as  distortions  of  real  occurrences,  or  as  altogether 
legendary. 

In  regard  to  the  New  Testament  miracles  generally,  whilst 
failing  to  see  in  what  respect  the  external  testimony  in  their 
behalf  is  stronger  than  it  is  for  the  reality  of  the  miracles  attri- 
buted to  St.  Columba,  I  limit  myself  at  present  to  the  following 
questions  : — 

First.  Whether  the  "  miracles  of  healing  "  may  not  have  had 
a  foundation  of  reality  in  "  natural  "  agencies  perfectly  well-known 
to  such  as  have  scientifically  studied  the  action  of  the  mind  upon 
the  body.  In  regard  to  one  form  of  these  supposed  miracles — the 
casting  out  of  devils — I  suppose  that  I  need  not  in  these  days 
adduce  any  argument  to  disprove  the  old  notion  of  "  demoniacal 
possession,"  in  the  face  of  the  fact  that  the  belief  in  such  "posses- 
sion "  in  the  case  of  lunatics,  epileptics,  etc.,  and  the  belief  in  the 
powers  of  "  exorcists  "  to  get  rid  of  it,  is  still  as  prevalent  among 
Eastern  nations  as  it  was  in  the  time  of  Christ.  And  I  suppose, 
too,  that  since  travellers  have  found  that  the  Pool  of  Bethesda  is 
fed  by  an  intermittent  spring,  few  now  seriously  believe  in  the 
occasional  appearance  of  an  "  angel  "  who  moved  its  water  ;  or  in 
the  cure  of  the  first  among  the  expectant  sick  who  got  himself 
placed  in  it,  by  any  other  agency  than  his  "  faith  "  in  the  efficacy 
of  the  means.  I  simply  claim  the  right  to  a  more  extended 
application  of  the  same  critical  method. 

Secondly.     Whether  we  have  not  a  similar  right  to  bring  to 

*  E.  Kilian,  in  Fraser's  Magazitie  for  December,  1875. 
12 


26o  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

bear  on  the  study  of  the  Gospel  narratives,  the  same  principles  of 

criticism  as  guided  the  early  Fathers  in  their  construction  of  the 

Canon,  with   all   the   enlightenment  which  we  derive  from  the 

subsequent  history  of  Christianity,  aided  by  that  of  other  forms  of 

religious  belief.     The  early  Christian  Fathers  were  troubled  with 

no  doubts  as  to  the  reality  of  miracles  in  themselves ;  and  they 

testified  to  the  healing  of  the  sick,  the  casting  out  of  devils,  and 

even  the  raising  of  the  dead,  as  well-known  facts  of  their   own 

time.     But  they  rejected  some  current  narratives  of  the  miraculous 

which  they  did  not  regard  as  adequately  authenticated,  and  others 

as  considering  them  puerile.     Looking  at  it  not  only  as  our  right, 

but  as  our  duty,  to  bring  the  higher  critical  enlightenment  of  the 

present  day  to  bear  upon  the  study  of  the  Gospel  records,  I  ask 

whether  both  past  and  contemporary  history  do  not  afford  such  a 

body  of  evidence  of  a  prevalent  tendency  to  exaggeration  and 

distortion,  in  the  representation  of  actual  occurrences  in  which 

"  supernatural"  agencies  are  supposed  to  have  been  concerned,  as 

entitles  us,  without  attempting  any  detailed  analysis,  to  believe 

that  if  we  could  know  what  really  did  happen,  it  would  often  prove 

to  be  something  very  different  from  what  is  narrated. 

By  such  a  general  admission,  we  may  remove  the  serious  diffi- 
culties to  which  I  alluded  at  the  outset — difficulties  which  must,  I 
think,  have  been  present  to  the  mind  of  Locke,  when  he  recorded, 
in  the  Common-place  Book  published  by  Lord  King,  the  remark- 
able aphorism  that  "  the  doctrine  proves  the  miracles,  rather  than 
"  the  miracles  the  doctrine." 


IX. 

ON  THE  DOCTRINE  OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM. 

[Contemporary  Review,  February,  1875.] 

What  is  the  range  and  limit  of  the  Automatic  action  of  the 
body  of  Man,  and  what  clue  we  gain  from  modern  physiological 
research  as  to  the  manner  in  which  it  is  controlled  and  directed 
by  his  mind,  are  the  questions  I  propose  to  discuss  in  this 
paper ;  and  it  will,  I  think,  be  advantageous  to  enter  upon  the 
discussion  historically,  by  tracing  the  principal  stages  in  the 
development  of  the  system  of  doctrine  now  generally  accepted  by 
physiologists. 

Somewhat  more  than  fifty  years  ago  (1821),  the  publication  of 
the  discoveries  of  Charles  Bell  gave  a  new  impetus  to  a  study  which 
had  previously  made  but  little  progress  for  more  than  a  century. 
It  was  by  him  that  the  principle  was  first  placed  on  a  valid  ex- 
perimental basis,  that  every  one  of  the  ^multitudinous  fibres  of 
which  any  single  nerve-trunk  is  composed,  runs  a  distinct  course 
between  its  central  and  its  peripheral  terminations ;  and  that  its 
function  consists  in  establishing  a  connection,  in  the  one  case, 
between  an  organ  of  sense  and  the  central  sensorium  ;  or,  in  the 
other,  between  a  motor  centre  and  the  muscle  which  it  calls  into 
contraction.  The  fibres  of  the  former  class  he  termed  "  sensory," 
and  those  of  the  latter  "  motor  ; "  and  he  showed  that  while  the 
ordinary  spinal  nerves  contain  fibres  of  both  functions  (separated, 
however,  into  distinct  groups  at  their  roots),  there  are  nerves  in 
the  head  which  are  sensory  only,  and  others  which  are  solely 
motor.  It  has  since  been  proved,  however,  that  between  these 
two    classes   of    nerve-fibres   there    is   not    really   any   essential 


262  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

difference,  each  serving,  like  a  telegraph-wire,  to  convey  "mole- 
cular motion  "  (the  now  fashionable  mode  of  expressing  a  change 
of  whose  nature  we  really  know  nothing  whatever)  in  either 
direction,  and  its  function  depending  entirely  upon  its  connec- 
tions. The  subsequent  progress  of  inquiry,  moreover,  has  made 
it  clear  that  such  "  molecular  motion,"  transmitted  from  a  recipient 
organ  to  a  nerve-centre,  may  there  excite  a  motor  response  with- 
out any  affection  of  the  consciousness  ;  and  hence  the  "  sensory  " 
nerves  of  Bell  are  now  more  generally  termed  "  afferent,"  or 
"centripetal." 

The  "  nervous  circle,"  as  it  was  termed  by  Bell,  composed  of 
a  sensory  nerve,  the  nerve-centre  to  which  it  proceeds,  and  the 
motor  nerve  passing  forth  from  that  centre  to  the  muscles,  was 
distinctly  recognized  by  him  as  furnishing  the  mechanism  of 
those  involuntary  movements  which  are  called  forth  by  sensory 
impressions ;  as  when  the  passage  of  a  crumb  of  bread,  a  drop 
of  water,  or  a  whiff  of  acrid  vapour  into  the  larynx,  excites  the 
act  of  coughing; — the  impression  transmitted  upwards  by  the 
sensory  nerves,  to  a  certain  part  of  the  brain  (including  in  this  term, 
for  the  present,  the  whole  aggregate  of  nerve-centres  contained 
in  the  cranial  cavity),  making  itself  felt  there,  and  calling  forth, 
through  the  motor  nerves  that  proceed  to  the  muscles  of  expira- 
tion, a  combined  movement  adapted  to  get  rid  of  the  source  of 
irritation.  This  is  a  typical  example  of  what  is  now  termed  reflex 
action  which  may  be  regarded  as  the  elementary  form  of  nervous 
activity. 

In  such  a  low  and  almost  homogeneous  organism  as  that  of 
the  hydra  (or  fresh-water  polype),  however,  every  part  seems 
equally  capable  of  receiving  impressions  and  of  responding  to 
them  by  contraction.  As  there  are  neither  special  sense-organs 
nor  special  muscles,  there  are  no  special  nerves ;  and  the  move- 
ments by  which  it  grasps  the  prey  that  may  come  within  its  reach, 
and  draws  it  into  its  digestive  cavity,  are  no  more  indicative  of 
consciousness  or  will,  than  are  those  of  the  muscles  of  the  gullet 
that  carry  down  into  the  stomach  the  food  which  is  brought  within 
their  grasp  in  the  act  of  swallowing,  or  than  the  churning  action 
of  the  stomach  itself  during  the  process  of  digestion.  The  con- 
tinuance of  these  movements  in  the  alimentary  canal  of  higher 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      263 

animals,  after  it  has  been  taken  out  of  the  body,  is  a  clear  proof  of 
their  purely  automatic  nature;  and  there  is  no  reason  to  regard  the 
prehensile  actions  of  the  Iiydra,  or  other  animals  of  similar  grade 
of  organization,  in  any  other  light. 

But  with  the  development  of  a  special  muscular  apparatus, 
and  the  limitation  (with  accompanying  exaltation)  of  the  sensory 
endowments  of  particular  parts  of  the  organism,  we  find  a  nervous 
mechanism  interposed,  the  primary  office  of  which  is  obviously 
"  internuncial "  merely.  Thus,  in  the  humble  ascidian,  rooted 
to  one  spot  during  all  but  its  free  embryonic  stage  of  existence, 
and  obtaining  both  its  food  and  the  oxygen  required  for  the 
aeration  of  its  blood  by  currents  sustained  by  the  vibration  of 
the  cilia  that  line  its  alimentary  canal  and  respiratory  sac,  an 
action  that  resembles  coughing  is  the  only  sign  it  gives  of  any 
but  a  purely  vegetative  existence.  The  orifice  of  the  dilated 
pharynx  which  forms  the  respiratory  sac  is  fringed  with  short 
tentacles,  from  which  nerve-fibres  proceed  to  a  ganglionic  centre 
in  their  neighbourhood ;  and  from  this  centre  we  find  motor  fibres 
ramifying  over  the  muscular  mantle  in  which  the  body  is  inclosed. 
And  thus  if  the  ciliary  current  should  draw  inwards  a  particle  of 
unsuitable  size  or  character,  the  contact  of  this  with  the  guardian- 
tentacles  excites  a  rellex  contraction  of  the  muscular  sac,  whereby 
a  jet  of  water  is  squirted  out  that  carries  the  offending  particle 
to  a  distance.  It  is  obvious  that  this  act  no  more  represents 
conscious  intention  on  the  part  of  the  ascidian,  than  the  cough 
of  the  infant  represents  a  desire  to  get  rid  of  an  uneasy  sensa- 
tion in  its  throat ;  in  the  one  case  as  in  the  other,  the  adaptive- 
ness  of  the  action  to  the  purpose  it  answers  is  simply  that  of 
a  piece  of  mechanism ;  and  we  characterize  it,  therefore,  as 
automatic. 

It  has  been  shown  by  Professor  Huxley  that  Descartes,  who 
distinctly  recognized  the  purely  mechanical  nature  of  such  actions, 
had  made  as  near  an  approach  as  he  could  do  to  what  we  now 
regard  as  their  true  rationale,  in  attributing  them  to  a  reflexion  of 
the  "  animal  spirits  "  in  the  nerve-centres  from  the  sensory  to  the 
motor  nerves  ;  and  he  seems  further  to  have  been  in  advance  of 
his  successors  in  maintaining  that  the  impressions  which  call  forth 
reflex  movements  may  do  so  without  being  consciously  felt.     It 


264  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

is  difficult,  however,  to  ascertain  precisely  the  real  meaning  of 
Descartes,  as  of  many  writers  who  succeeded  him ;  for  the  Latin 
sentire  and  its  derivations  obviously  cover  a  very  wide  range  of 
mental  affections,  from  simple  consciousness  up  to  the  highest 
forms  of  thought  and  feeling  ;  and  it  is  clear  from  the  illustrations 
given  by  Descartes,  that  he  sometimes  meant  rather  sdf-zow- 
scioasness — that  is,  the  consciousness  of  one's  consciousness — 
than  those  simple  states  of  feeling,  which,  though  they  can  be 
shown  to  have  originally  guided  our  movements,  in  consequence 
of  their  habitual  recurrence  cease  to  excite  our  notice  and  are  not 
remembered.  To  this  distinction  I  shall  presently  have  occasion 
to  return. 

The  next  important  stage  in  the  progress  of  neurological 
inquiry,  consisted  in  the  determination  and  general  recognition  of 
the  independent  endowments  of  the  spinal  cord.  To  those  who 
have  been  brought  up  in  modern  neurological  doctrine,  it  seems 
scarcely  credible  that  the  grossest  ignorance  should  have  pre- 
vailed up  to  the  end  of  the  first  third  of  the  present  century,  in 
regard  to  the  centric  character  of  this  organ ;  even  Bell  regarding 
it  as  a  bundle  of  nerves — a  conductor  that  brings  the  nerve-trunks 
issuing  from  it  into  continuity  with  the  brain,  which  was  assumed 
to  be  (with  the  exception  of  the  sympathetic  ganglia)  the  sole 
centre  of  the  nervous  system  of  Vertebrate  animals  generally, 
and  of  man  in  particular.  And  in  like  manner  the  knotted  ventral 
nerve-cord  of  articulated  animals  was  represented  by  Bell's 
disciple,  George  Ne\vport  (and  also  by  Professor  Grant),  as  a 
mere  conductor  between  the  cephalic  ganglia  and  the  nerve-trunks. 
Yet  Prochaska  and  Legallois  had  long  before  experimentally 
proved,  not  only  that  the  spinal  cord  as  a  whole  is  a  centre  of 
reflex  action  quite  independent  of  the  brain,  but  that  separated 
segments  of  the  spinal  cord  may  so  act  independently  of  each 
other.  So,  in  the  case  of  articulated  animals,  any  one  who  had 
cut  a  worm  or  a  centipede  into  pieces,  and  had  witnessed  the 
continued  movements  of  each  segment,  might  have  drawn  the 
inference  that  these  movements  were  sustained  by  the  inde- 
pendent endowments  of  the  ganglionic  centres  which  the  seg- 
ments severally  contained.  It  had  been  further  proved  by  Legal- 
lois that  the  respiratory  movements  continue  after  the  removal  of 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      265 

the  whole  brain  proper ;  the  nerve-centre  on  whose  action  their 
continuance  depends,  being  that  upward  extention  of  the  spinal 
cord  into  the  cavity  of  the  skull  which  is  known  as  the  medulla 
oblongata.  Yet  these  facts  were  so  generally  ignored  in  physio- 
logical teaching,  that,  as  I  can  myself  remember,  they  were  only 
vaguely  referred  to  in  proof  of  the  persistence  of  a  low  degree  of 
consciousness  after  the  loss  of  the  brain. 

No  one  whose  recollection  goes  back  as  distinctly  as  mine 
does,  to  the  publication  (in  the  Philosophical  Transactions  for 
1833)  of  Dr.  Marshall  Hall's  "Researches  on  the  reflex  function 
•'  of  the  Medulla  Oblongata  and  Medulla  Spinalis,"  can  have  a 
doubt  that  this  memoir  has  been  the  basis  of  all  our  present  more 
exact  knowledge  of  "  reflex  action  "  generally.  It  is  true  that  its 
author  developed  no  principle  which  could  not  have  been  found 
in  the  writings  of  Prochaska,  more  obscurely  in  those  of  his 
predecessor,  Unzer,  and  yet  less  distinctly  and  more  remotely  in 
those  of  Descartes.  But  the  ideas  of  these  philosophers,  having 
been  in  advance  of  their  time,  had  never  been  received  into  the 
general  body  of  physiological  doctrine  ;  and  there  can  be  little 
doubt  of  the  originality  of  Dr.  Marshall  Hall's  researches,  although, 
by  his  indignant  denial  of  having  been  anticipated  by  Prochaska, 
he  provoked  the  imputation  that  he  had  stolen  his  ideas  from  that 
author.  At  any  rate,  it  was  by  his  persistence  in  calling  attention 
to  the  demonstrative  independence  of  the  spinal  cord  and  medulla 
oblongata  as  a  centre  (or  rather  series  of  centres)  of  nervous 
power,  that  the  fact  came  to  be  universally  accepted  as  a  cardinal 
principle  of  physiology,  and  that  the  occurrence  of  "  reflex  action  " 
without  any  necessary  excitement  of  cotiscioiisness  gradually  obtained 
general  recognition.  Only  those,  however,  who  themselves  took 
part  in  the  controversy,  will  be  likely  to  remember  the  strong 
opposition  which  the  latter  part  of  this  doctrine  encountered. 
Tho.  putposive  character  of  the  movements  executed  by  a  headless 
frog,  as  when,  its  legs  make  efforts  to  push  away  the  probe  with 
which  its  cloaca  is  being  irritated,  or  when  one  leg  wipes  away 
the  acid  applied  to  the  surface  of  the  other,  was  constantly 
adduced  as  a  proof  that  the  headless  trunk  feels  the  impression, 
and  makes  a  conscious  effort  to  get  rid  of  it.  And  it  is  not  even 
now  possible  to  meet  such  an  assertion  with  any  direct  disproof; 


266  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

the  arguments  on  the  other  side  being  rather  of  the  nature  of 
cumulative  probabihties.  Thus — (i)  as  the  separated  head  of  the 
frog  will  itself  show  reflex  action  (the  eyelid  closing  when  its  edge 
is  irritated),  the  division  of  the  head  from  the  body  would  establish 
two  distinct  centres  of  consciousness,  or  two  egos,  if  the  per- 
formance of  reflex  action  be  accepted  per  se  as  an  indication  of 
the  persistence  of  sensibility ;  while  (2)  the  number  of  these 
centres  may  be  further  multiplied  by  dividing  the  spinal  cord  in 
the  middle  of  the  back,  so  that  the  reflex  actions  of  the  fore  limbs 
are  performed  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  anterior  segment, 
and  those  of  the  hind  limbs  through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
posterior  segment ;  and  (3)  cases  are  of  no  infrequent  occurrence 
in  the  human  subject,  in  which,  the  lower  segment  of  the  spinal 
cord  having  been  entirely  cut  off  by  disease  or  accident  from 
communication  with  the  brain,  reflex  actions  in  the  legs  may  be 
excited  by  tickling  the  soles  of  the  feet,  or  the  application  to 
them  of  a  heated  plate,  without  the  least  consciousness  on  the 
part  of  the  patient,  either  of  the  application  of  the  excitant,  or  of 
the  respondent  motions  it  calls  forth.  And  though  it  was  at  first 
urged  that  this  last  fact  gives  no  assurance  that  the  endowments 
of  the  spinal  cord  are  the  same  in  the  frog  as  they  are  in  man,  yet 
there  has  been  a  growing  disposition  to  recognize  the  uniformity 
of  Nature  in  this  and  other  particulars,  and  to  accept  the  facts  of 
human  consciousness  (or  unconsciousness)  as  affording  the  best 
data  for  the  interpretation  of  such  actions  of  the  lower  animals  as 
are  performed  through  a  demonstrably  similar  instrumentality. 

When  once  this  principle  is  admitted,  it  becomes  obvious  that, 
however  "  purposive  "  may  be  the  character  of  such  actions,  their 
performance  from  the  first,  without  training  or  experience,  may  be 
regarded  as  valid  evidence  that  they  are  determined  by  nothing 
else  than  a  physical  mechanism.  No  one  doubts  this  in  regard  to 
that  rhythmical  succession  of  contractions  and  dilatations  of  the 
auricles  and  ventricles  of  the  heart,  by  which  the  circulation  of 
the  blood  is  kept  up ;  nor  in  regard  to  that  regular  sequence  of 
respiratory  movements  which  serves  to  maintain  the  aeration  of  the 
blood,  alike  in  the  waking  state  while  the  attention  is  completely 
engrossed  elsewhere,  and  in  the  states  of  profound  sleep  and 
insensibility.      And   there   are  no  co-ordinated  muscular  move 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      267 

ments  of  which  the  "purposive"  character  is  more  obvious,  than 
it  is  in  the  acts  of  coughing  and  sucking  •  the  former  of  which  we 
knowexperientially  to  be  executed  without  any  conscious  intention, 
and  to  be  capable  of  being  excited  in  states  of  the  profoundest  coma 
that  is  compatible  with  the  continuance  of  ordinary  breathing; 
while  the  latter,  although  requiring  a  still  more  complex  combina- 
tion of  the  movements  of  respiration  with  those  of  swallowing,  can 
be  shown  to  be  a  purely  "  reflex  "  act,  being  at  once  excited  by 
the  impression  made  on  the  lips  of  a  new-born  mammal,  even 
when,  in  the  case  of  a  puppy  or  guinea-pig,  the  whole  of  the  brain- 
proper  has  been  experimentally  removed,  or  when  the  human 
infant  has  come  into  the  world  with  its  spinal  cord  and  medulla 
oblongata  intact,  but  without  any  higher  nervous  centre. 

It  was  while  the  doctrine  of  reflex  action  without  the  necessary 
participation  of  sensation  was  thus  fighting  its  way  to  a  place  in 
the  general  scheme  of  neuro-physiology,  that  another  very  important 
advance  was  made  by  investigations  of  an  entirely  different  nature, 
which  gave  it  a  cogency  and  completeness  to  which  it  could  not 
otherwise  have  laid  claim ; — I  refer  to  the  establishment  of  the 
essential  distinction,  alike  in  structure  and  in  function,  between  the 
two  forms  of  nerve-substance  that  are  known  in  human  anatomy  as 
the  "  grey  "  and  the  "  white  "  matter.  The  determination  of  this 
distinction,  which  is  one  of  even  more  fundamental  importance 
than  that  established  by  Bell  between  the  motor  and  sensory  nerves, 
was  not  the  work  of  any  one  physiologist.  It  had  long  been 
known  that  the  white  portion  of  the  brain,  the  white  strands  of  the 
spinal  cord,  and  the  entire  substance  of  the  nerve-trunks,  have 
a  fibrous  structure ;  and  the  advance  of  histological  research 
(which  sprang  from  the  application  of  the  principle  of  achromatism 
to  the  uiicroscope)  demonstrated  that  these  fibres  were  ultimately 
resolvable  into  tubules  of  extreme  minuteness.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  "  grey  "  matter  which  forms  the  convoluted  layer  of  the  surface 
of  the  cerebrum,  but  which  occupies  the  interior  of  the  spinal  cord 
and  the  ganglia  of  the  sympathetic  system,  as  it  does  of  the  gang- 
lionic nerve-centres  of  Invertebrata,  was  found  to  be  made  up  of 
cells  or  vesicles,  certain  extensions  of  which  communicate  with  each 
other,  whilst  others  become  continuous  with  the  fibres  of  tlic  nerve- 
trunks.     The  difference  in  the  relative  supply  of  blood  which  these 


268  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

two  forms  of  nerve-tissue  respectively  receive,  is  not  less  significant 
than  that  of  their  histological  characters  ;  this  being  especially 
manifest  in  the  "grey  "and  the  "white  "  portions  of  the  brain. 
For,  whilst  the  nerve-cells  lie  in  the  midst  of  a  plexus  of  capillaries 
so  close  that  no  other  tissue  receives  anything  approaching  to  the 
same  quantity  of  blood  in  a  given  space,  the  vascularity  of  the 
tubular  component  of  the  brain,  spinal  cord,  and  nerve  trunks  is 
by  no  means  remarkable.  And  it  is  easily  proved  experimentally 
that,  while  an  interruption  to  the  circulation  of  the  blood  through 
the  brain  immediately  suspends  its  functional  activity,  the  con- 
ductivity of  the  nerve-trunks  lasts  for  a  considerable  time  after  the 
general  stoppage  of  the  flow  of  blood  through  their  vessels. 

I  can  myself  distinctly  recollect  the  gradual  spread  of  the  belief 
in  the  physiological  distinctness  of  these  two  forms  of  nerve- 
substance  (of  which  the  late  Mr.  S.  Solly  was  one  of  the  earliest 
upholders  in  this  country)  from  a  very  limited  circle  to  universal 
acceptance  ;  the  tubular  being  regarded,  like  the  wires  of  the 
electric  telegraph,  as  the  conductor  of  nerve-force ;  whilst  the 
vesicular  or  ganglionic  was  considered,  like  the  battery  which 
sends  the  charge,  as  the  origifiator  of  nerve-force.  We  now  know 
that  this  account  of  the  matter  is  not  strictly  true  ;  since  the 
vesicular  substance  may  serve  also  for  the  transmission,  while  the 
fibrous  substance  may,  under  certain  circumstances,  serve  also  for 
the  origination,  of  that  special  form  of  "  molecular  motion  "  which 
constitutes  the  characteristic  action  of  the  nervous  system.  But 
in  a  broad,  general  way,  the  analogy  is  sufficiently  correct ;  and  the 
recognition  of  it  soon  led  to  important  consequences.  For  Mr. 
R.  D.  Grainger  showed,  by  a  careful  examination  of  the  roots  of 
the  spinal  nerves,  that  while  some  of  them  are  continuous  with  the 
fibrous  strands  of  the  cord,  which  thus  bring  them  into  continuous 
connection  with  the  cephalic  centres,  others  lose  themselves  in  its 
grey  or  vesicular  nucleus,  which,  serving  as  their  ganglionic  centre, 
is  the  source  of  the  independent  power  of  the  spinal  cord ;  and 
he  further  pointed  out  that  the  relative  proportions  of  this  vesicular 
matter  in  the  several  parts  of  tlie  spinal  cord  of  different  vertebrate 
animals  is  closely  proportioned  to  the  size  of  the  trunks  which 
proceed  from  them,  and  more  particularly  to  the  relative  importance 
of  the  anterior  and  posterior  members  as  instruments  of  locomo- 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      269 

tion.  Taking  up  a  suggestion  thrown  out  by  Mr.  Grainger,  I  was 
myself  led  to  re-examine,  under  this  new  light,  the  facts  previously 
ascertained  in  resrard  to  the  structure  and  actions  of  the  nervous 
system  of  invertebrate  animals ;  with  the  result  that  these  facts 
seemed  to  me  not  only  to  justify,  but  to  require,  the  acceptance 
of  the  doctrine  that  every  separate  ganglion  of  the  ventral  cord  of 
insects,  centipedes,  etc.,  is  an  independent  centre  of  reflexion,  the 
function  of  the  cephalic  ganglia  (which  are  chiefly,  if  not  entirely, 
the  centres  of  the  nerves  of  special  sense,)  being  to  harmonize  and 
direct  their  activity.  This,  again,  now  seems  to  be  so  self-evident 
a  proposition  as  to  need  no  demonstration  ;  yet  it  had,  like  the 
doctrines  already  summarized,  to  fight  its  way  to  general  recog- 
nition ;  and  though  accepted  by  most  British  physiologists,  it 
seems  not  to  have  been  known  on  the  Continent  until  the  publica- 
tion, four  years  subsequently,  of  the  classical  memoir  "  On  the 
"Nervous  and  Circulatory  Systems  of  the  Myriapoda"(/%/A?^^////<ra/ 
Transactions,  1843),  ^^  which  Mr.  Newport  gave  in  his  adhesion 
to  it. 

The  application  of  the  doctrine  of  reflex  action  to  insects  gave 
a  definite  physiological  basis  for  the  doctrine  of  instinct.  All  who 
had  carefully  studied  the  remarkable  habits  of  this  class  of  animals, 
especially  those  of  the  social  Hymenoptera,  had  been  led  to  recog- 
nize their  essentially  automatic  character;  as  specially  indicated  (i) 
by  the  almost  invaria])le  uniformity  with  which  they  are  performed 
by  all  the  individuals  of  the  same  type  ;  (2)  by  the  perfection  with 
which  they  are  performed  from  the  very  commencement  of  the  life 
of  the  imago ;  and  (3)  by  the  impossibility,  in  many  cases,  of  any 
training  or  guidance  having  been  derived  from  parental  experience, 
in  the  construction  of  habitations,  the  collection  and  storing  up  of 
food  for  the  larvae,  and  the  like.  Such  actions  can  only  be  attri- 
buted to  an  innate  or  congenital  tendency  to  particular  "  modes 
of  motion"  of  the  nervous  system,  dependent  upon  its  mechanical 
arrangements  ;  and  to  whatever  extent  insects  learn  from  their 
own  experience,  or  have  the  power  of  intentionally  adapting  .their 
ordinary  constructive  operations  to  new  conditions  * — a  question 

•  The  account  given  by  Mr.  Bolt  in  his  Naturalist  in  Nicarai^ua  of  the 
adaptations  made  by  ants,  under  contingencies  brought  about  by  human 
agency,  and  but  little  likely  to  have  arisen  under  natural  conditions,  seems 


270  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

still  under  discussion — no  one,  I  believe,  who  has  really  studied 
the  subject,  would  hesitate  in  endorsing  the  sagacious  remark  ot 
Macleay,  that  just  as  intelligence  (or  the  intefitional  adaption 
of  means  to  ends)  is  the  essential  characteristic  of  vertebrate 
animals,  culminating  (of  course)  in  man,  so  instinct  (or  the 
working-out  of  results  by  an  automatic  mechanism)  is  the  essential 
characteristic  of  the  articulate  series,  culminating  in  insects. 
And  it  is  a  curious  confirmation  of  this  view,  that  of  all  vertebrate 
animals,  those  which  most  strongly  display  instinctive  pro- 
pensities— modified,  however,  by  intelligence — are  birds,  which 
have  been  appropriately  termed  "  the  insects  of  the  vertebrated 
series." 

The  nature  of  Automatism,  and  the  share  it  takes  in  the  ordi- 
nary life  of  insects,  etc.,  may  be  recognized  in  the  following 
examples  : — 

If  the  head  of  a  Centipede  be  cut  off  whilst  it  is  in  motion, 
the  body  will  continue  to  move  onwards  by  the  action  of  its  legs; 
and  if  the  body  be  divided  into  several  pieces,  the  same  will  take 
place  in  the  separate  parts.  After  these  movements  have  come 
to  an  end,  they  may  be  excited  again  by  irritating  any  part  of 
the  nerve-centres  or  the  cut  extremity  of  the  nervous  cord.  If 
the  body  be  opposed  in  its  progress  by  an  obstacle  over  which 
the  propulsive  action  of  its  legs  can  carry  it,  it  mounts  over  it 
and  moves  directly  onwards  ;  but  if  the  obstacle  be  too  high  to 
be  thus  surmounted,  the  cut  extremity  remains  forced  up  against 
it,  the  legs  still  continuing  to  move.  The  only  difference,  there- 
fore, between  the  crawling  of  the  headless  and  that  of  the 
complete  Centipede,  consists  in  the  direction  given  to  the  move- 
ments of  the  latter  by  the  visual  sense  ;  the  sight  of  an  obstacle 
causing  it  to  turn  out  of  the  way  before  reaching  it. 

There  is  an  insect  termed  the  Mantis,  allied  to  the  crickets 
and  grasshoppers,  whose  conformation  fits  it  to  lie  in  wait  for  its 
prey,  rather  than  to  go  in  search  of  it.  Resting  on  its  two 
hinder  pairs  of  legs,  it  lifts  up  the  front  of  its  body,  which  is 
furnished  with  a  pair  of  large  and  strong  legs  ending  in  sharp 
claws,  in  readiness  to  capture  any  unlucky  insect  that  may  come 

more  indicative  of  their  possession  of  intelligential  power,  than  anything  that 
had  been  ascertained  by  the  elaborate  observations  of  Huber. 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      271 

within  their  reach  ;  and  it  is  from  the  resemblance  of  this  attitude 
to  that  of  prayer,  that  the  Alantis  has  acquired  from  naturalists 
the  specific  name  of  religiosa,  and  from  the  peasantry  of  the 
South  of  France,  where  it  abounds,  the  designation  oi prie-Dieu. 
Now,  if  the  head  be  cut  off,  the  body  still  retains  its  position, 
and  resists  attempts  to  overthrow  it,  while  the  arms  close  around 
anything  that  is  introduced  between  them,  and  impress  their 
claws  upon  it.  This  they  will  continue  to  do  when  the  front 
portion  of  the  body  to  which  they  are  attached  is  separated  from 
the  rest ;  while  the  hinder  part  will  still  remain  balanced  on  the 
four  legs  that  support  it,  not  only  resisting  any  attempt  to  over- 
throw it,  but  recovering  its  position  when  disturbed.  Here, 
again,  it  is  obvious  that  the  nerve-centres  in  the  head  have  only 
a  directive  action,  derived  from  the  guidance  afforded  by  the 
senses,  especially  the  visual. 

While  the  stimulus  to  the  reflex  movements  of  the  legs  in  the 
foregoing  cases  appears  to  be  given  by  the  contact  of  the  ex- 
tremities with  the  solid  surface  whereon  they  rest,  the  appropriate 
impression,  in  the  case  of  aquatic  insects,  can  only  be  made  by 
the  contact  of  liquid.  Thus  the  cephalic  ganglia  of  the  vfell- 
known  water-beetle,  Dytiscus  rnargi/ialis,  having  been  removed, 
the  insect  remained  motionless  so  long  as  it  rested  on  a  dry  sur- 
face;  but  when  cast  into  water  it  executed  the  usual  swimming 
movements  with  the  greatest  energy  and  rapidity,  striking  all  its 
comrades  to  one  side  by  its  violence,  and  persisting  in  these  for 
more  than  half  an  hour. 

The  directing  action  of  the  cephalic  ganglia  would  seem,  for 
the  reasons  already  stated,  to  be  not  less  automatic  than  the 
reflex  action  of  the  ganglia  of  the  trunk ;  but  whilst  we  have  every 
reason  to  regard  the  latter  as  not  involving  consciousness,  all 
analogy  would  indicate  that  the  former  cannot  exert  itself  without 
the  excitement  of  sensation.  When  we  see  an  insect  moving 
directly  towards  an  object  from  a  distance  (as  when  bees  fly 
straight  to  honey-yielding  or  pollen-yielding  flowers,  or  make  for 
the  entrance  of  their  hi\  e  at  the  approach  of  a  summer  shower), 
avoiding  obstacles  placed  in  its  way,  escaping  from  the  hand 
that   is  coming   down   to   crush,  or  the   net   that   threatens   to 


272  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

capture  it ;  when,  also,  we  see  that  it  possesses  organs,  which, 
though  framed  on  a  different  plan  from  our  eyes,  have  a  sufficient 
structural  parallelism  to  justify  the  inference  that  they  too  have 
a  visual  function,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  ojius  prohandi  lies  on 
those  who  maintain  that  the  motions  of  insects  can  be  thus  guided 
without  sight  of  the  objects  which  attract  or  repel  them. 

In  this,  as  in  other  parts  of  the  inquiry,  the  answer  that  is 
probably  nearest  the  truth  is  that  which  we  receive  from  our  own 
consciousness  when  rightly  interrogated.  It  was  the  sagacity  of 
Hartley  that  first  distinctly  worked  out  the  parallel  (previously  in- 
dicated by  Descartes)  between  the  secondary  automatism  which 
man  acquires  by  habit,  and  the  original  ox  primary  automatism  of 
the  lower  animals.  The  act  of  walking,  for  example,  though 
originally  learned  by  experience  under  the  guidance  of  sense-im- 
pressions, comes  to  be  so  completely  automatic  as  to  be  kept  up 
when  once  initiated  by  voluntary  direction,  not  only  without  any 
conscious  effort,  but  even  without  any  consciousness  of  the  move- 
ments we  are  performing,  until  our  attention  is  called  to  them  ;  so 
that,  as  it  is  credibly  asserted,  soldiers  fatigued  by  a  long  march 
will  continue  to  plod  onwards  (as  Indian  punkah-pullers  will  go 
on  alternately  twitching  and  letting  go  their  cord)  in  a  profound 
sleep.  But  whilst  the  locomotive  actions  performed  in  this  last 
condition  resemble  those  of  the  decapitated  centipede,  in  simply 
carrying  the  body  forwards  without  avoidance  of  obstacles,  those 
of  a  man  who  is  awake,  but  whose  attention  is  engrossed  by  some 
internal  object  of  contemplation,  are  obviously  guided  by  im- 
pressions received  through  his  visual  organs.  Thus  I  have  seen 
John  S.  Mill  making  his  way  along  Cheapside  at  its  fullest  afternoon 
tide,  threading  his  way  among  the  foot-passengers  with  which  its 
narrow  pavement  was  crowded,  and  neither  jostling  his  fellows 
nor  coming  into  collision  with  lamp-posts ;  and  have  been  assured 
by  him  that  his  mind  was  then  continuously  engaged  upon  his 
System  of  Logic  (most  of  which  was  thought-out  in  his  daily  walks 
between  the  India  office  and  his  residence  at  Kensington),  and 
that  he  had  so  little  consciousness  of  what  was  taking  place  around 
him,  as  not  to  recognize  his  nearest  friends  among  the  people  he 
met,  until  his  attention  had  been  recalled  to  their  presence.  Most 
of  us,  I  suppose,  have  had  experiences  of  the  same  kind.     It  has 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      273 

often  happened  to  myself,  that,  having  previously  intended  to  take 
some  special  direction,  I  have  found  myself  in  the  track  which  I 
have  been  for  years  accustomed  to  follow  for  six  days  in  the  week, 
through  having  committed  myself  to  the  guidance  of  my  bete  as 
Xavier  de  Maistre  calls  it,  whilst  my  ame  was  otherwise  engaged. 
Now  in  these  and  similar  cases,  do  we  see,  or  do  we  not  see  the 
objects  whose  impressions  upon  our  retinae  excite  those  molecular 
changes  in  our  nerve-centres  which  direct  our  muscular  action  ?  I 
find  it  difficult  to  conceive  that  they  act  except  through  my  con- 
sciousness, however  faintly  and  transiently  excited ;  but  I  would 
by  no  means  assert  it  to  be  impossible.  It  is  very  important, 
however,  to  bear  in  mind  the  distinction  between  seeing  and 
noticing,  as  also  between  hearing  and  apprehending.  That  Ave 
see  and  hear  a  great  many  things  of  which  we  take  no  distinct 
cognizance  at  the  time  for  want  of  attention  to  them,  is  indicated 
by  the  fact  that  the  remembrance  of  them  surges  up  at  some  sub- 
sequent date,  not  unfrequently  in  dreams.  And  it  seems  to  me 
more  philosophical  to  regard  the  guiding  action  of  visual  impressions 
as  exerted  through  the  consciousness,  however  faindy  it  may  be 
awakened,  than  to  assert  without  a  tittle  of  evidence  that  a  bee 
does  not  see  the  flower  or  the  entrance  to  its  hive  towards  which 
it  flies  in  a  direct  line,  or  that  the  chicken  does  not  see  the  grain 
or  insect  at  which  it  pecks.  That  the  sensation  may  be  "  sur- 
plusage "  where  it  prompts  no  higher  psychical  action,  and  that 
the  physical  change  would  equally  take  place  without  it,  is  doubt- 
less an  arguable  proposition  as  regards  the  actions  of  animals 
whose  life  is  purely  automatic  ;  but  where  the  like  actions  (as  in 
the  case  of  man)  have  had  to  be  learned  by  experience,  it  seems 
to  me  inconceivable  that  such  experience  can  be  gained  except 
consciously.  The  child  learning  to  walk,  who  (as  Paley  says)  is 
"  the  greatest  posture-master  in  the  world,"  is  vividly  conscious  of 
the  sense  of  loss  of  balance  to  which  he  is  unaccustomed  ;  and  it 
is  under  the  guidance  of  that  sense  that  his  movements  are  directed 
to  the  recovery  of  his  equilibrium.  But  by  the  habitual  recurrence 
of  similar  experiences,  a  "mode  of  motion"  comes  to  be  established 
in  his  nervous  mechanism,  which  shapes  that  mechanism  (according 
to  the  physiological  law  of  nutrition)  in  accordance  with  it ;  and 
thus  the  adult,  who  has  acquired  the  art  of  shifting  his  weight 


274  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

from  one  foot   to  another,  without  anything  more  than  a  slight 
and  transient  disturbance  of  his  equiUbrium,  ceases  to  perceive 
what  has  become  monotonous  by  the  frequency  of  its  repetition  ; 
and  it  is  only  when  his  equilibrium  happens  to  be  more  seriously 
disturbed  by  a  slip  of  his  foot  or  a  stumble  over  an  unnoticed 
obstacle,  that  he  becomes  aware  of  the  constant  control  exercised 
over  his  automatic  movements  by  this  delicate  regulating  balance. 
All  these  facts  distinctly  point  to  a  reflex  action  of  the  gang- 
lionic centres  of  the  organs  of  special  sense,  as  the  mechanism 
by  wliich  impressions  on  those  organs  call  forth  and  direct  the 
instinctive  actions  of  the  lower  animals  ;  and,  as  we  shall  presently 
see,  they  harmonize  completely  with  the  results  of  experiments 
made  upon  the  higher.      Whether  it  be  alone  the  "  motion  of 
molecules"  (or   physical   change  of  any  kind)   that   excites  the 
respondent  movement,  or  whether  the  sight,  sound,  smell,  or  other 
affection    of  the   consciousness  by  the   object  which   attracts  or 
repels  the  insect,  be  a  necessary  link  in  the  chain  of  sequences,  is 
a  question  which  seems  to  me  to  have  no  essential  bearing  upon 
the  automatism  of  man  ;  since  the  appeal  to  our  own  experience 
evokes  the  unhesitating  response,  that  in  him,  at  any  rate  (as  pre- 
sumably in  the  animals  that  most  nearly  approach  him  in  structure), 
the  higher  forms  of  activity  can  only  be  excited  in  the  first  instance 
through  the  consciousness,  though  they  too  may  become  automatic 
bv  frequent  repetition.     The  essential  difference  between  what  we 
are  accustomed  to  term  the  instinctive  actions  of  insects,  and  the 
smiply  reflex  movements  which  we  have  seen  to  be  executed  by 
their  headless  trunks,  or  even  by  segments  of  those  trunks,  consists 
in  their  greater  complexity  and  variety,  and  in  the  special  con- 
trolling and  directing  power  of  the  cephalic  ganglia  \  and  this  may 
be  equally  exerted,  whether  the  excitement  of  sensation  (i)  be  a 
necessary  link  in  the  chain  of  sequences ;  or  (2)  be  simply  a  con- 
comitant, which  must  occur  when  the  mechanism  is  in  complete 
working  order  ;  or  (3),  as  some  maintain,  is  not  really  produced 
by  impressions  transmitted  by  the  afi"erent  nerves  to  the  cephalic 
ganglia,  any  more  than  it  is  by  the  impressions  which  excite  the 
separated  ganglia  of  the  ventral  cord  to  reflex  action.     The  first 
having  been  my  former  opinion,  I  was  led  to  distinguish  the  actions 
automatically  excited  through  the  cephalic  ganglia  as  sensori-molor ; 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      275 

but  I  now  quite  admit  that  there  is  much  to  be  said  in  favour  of 
the  second.  For  the  denial  of  consciousness  to  insects,  however, 
I  cannot  see  any  other  argument  than  that  if  "  molecular  motion  " 
be  competent  to  do  the  work,  sensation  would  be  a  useless  sur- 
plusage,— an  application  of  the  doctrine  of  final  causes  which  can 
scarcely  be  admitted  as  having  any  scientific  validity. 

The  study  of  the  conditions  of  instinctive  action  having  thus 
landed  us  in  the  conclusion  of  its  dependence  upon  a  mechanism 
of  nerves  and  muscles  excited  to  activity  by  external  impressions, 
we  apply  the  same  method  of  inquiry  to  the  conditions  of  that 
rational  action  with  which  we  credit  the  higher  vertebrates,  and  of 
which  we  trace  the  dawnings  among  the  lower. 

It  is  now  universally  acknowledged  that  the  meaning  of  that 
complex  aggregate  of  ganglionic  centres  which  makes  up  the 
brain  of  man,  can  only  be  rightly  understood  by  a  careful  study 
(i)  of  the  comparative  structure  of  the  brains  of  the  lower  verte- 
brata,  and  (2)  of  the  history  of  embryonic  development.  And  it 
is  the  distinct  teacliing  of  both  alike,  that  so  far  from  the  Cerebrum 
being  the  fundamental  portion  of  the  brain  (as  its  enormous  relative 
size  in  man  would  seem  to  indicate)  it  is  originally  a  sort  of  offset, 
from  that  axial  cord  which  constitutes  the  primary  and  essential 
part  of  the  nervous  apparatus  of  vertebrates ;  the  lower  part  of 
this  axis  being  formed  by  the  spinal  cord,  and  the  upper  by  the 
series  of  ganglionic  centres  which  lie  along  the  floor  of  the  skull, 
and  which  represent  (in  their  relation  to  the  sensory  and  motor 
nerves  of  the  head)  the  cephalic  ganglia  of  insects.  For  in  the 
lowest  fishes  there  is  scarcely  even  a  rudiment  of  the  cerebrum, 
the  forward  extension  of  the  spinal  axis  constituting  the  whole 
brain.  And  alike,  as  it  would  seem,  in  all  vertebrates,  the  founda- 
tion of  the  cerebral  hemispheres  is  laid,  not  in  these  first-formed 
"cerebral  [or  rather  cephalic]  vesicles,"  which  really  represent  the 
higher  segments  of  the  axial  cord,  but  in  a  pair  of  minute 
"  vesicles  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres,"  which  are  budded  off 
from  the  most  anterior  of  these.  The  proportion  which  the 
development  of  the  cerebrum,  in  the  ascending  series  of  verte- 
brata,  bears  to  that  of  the  axial  cord,  corresponds  so  closely  with 
that  which  reason  (so  far  as  we  can  interpret  its  manifestations) 
bears  to  instinct,  as  to  warrant  the  conclusion  that,  since  we  are 


276  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

justified  in  assuming  that  the  axial  cord  (of  which  the  cerebellum 
seems  to  be  an  appendage)  furnishes  the  mechanism  of  automatic 
action,  the  cerebrum  is  the  instrument  of  the  intelligence.  And 
experiment  not  only  bears  out  this  conclusion,  but  also  demon- 
strates that  a  great  number  of  actions  which  man  requires  long 
training  to  be  able  to  perform  —  which  training  involves  the 
conscious  purposive  effort  of  the  Ego — ^are  provided  for  in  the 
lower  animals  by  the  automatic  mechanism  which  they  con- 
genitally  possess. 

Among  the  lower  vertebrates,  the  frog  is  the  animal  whose 
actions  have  been  most  thoroughly  studied,  and  their  mechanism 
most  carefully  investigated.  These  actions  are  for  the  most  part 
very  simple ;  the  habits  of  the  creature  leading  its  natural  life 
being  for  the  most  part  such  as  mechanism  will  readily  provide 
for.  That  to  a  very  large  extent  they  are  purely  automatic,  can 
be  demonstrated  by  experiments  of  the  kind  already  cited.  Thus, 
at  the  season  of  sexual  excitement,  the  fore-legs  of  the  male  tend 
to  close  firmly  upon  anything  that  is  placed  bet(veen  them  (just  as 
mechanically  as  the  fly-trap  of  the  Dioncea  closes  upon  the  unlucky 
insect  that  alights  upon  it),  and  will  retain  that  clasp  for  weeks ; 
and  this  although  the  spinal  cord  has  been  divided  both  above 
and  below  the  segment  from  which  the  nerves  of  the  fore-legs  are 
given  off.  The  clasping  action  may  be  excited  by  simply  touching 
the  thumb  of  either  fore-foot,  which  at  that  season  is  considerably 
enlarged  and  furnished  with  a  peculiar  papillary  structure ;  and 
thus  it  becomes  obvious  that  this  action  no  more  indicates  inten- 
tion, than  does  the  corresponding  movement  of  the  fore-legs  of 
the  Mantis.  There  are  many  other  actions  performed  by  the 
agency  of  the  spinal  cord  alone,  which  seem  so  purposive  as 
to  make  it  difficult  for  those  to  regard  them  in  any  other  light, 
who  have  not  been  led  by  the  considerations  previously  urged,  to 
recognize  the  large  share  which  pure  automatism  has  in  the  life 
of  this  animal.  If,  again,  its  cerebellum  be  left  in  connection 
with  its  spinal  cord,  the  cerebrum  and  optic  ganglia  having  been 
removed,  it  will  execute  all  its  locomotive  movements  as  well  as 
the  complete  frog  would  do,  yet  only  in  respondence  to  some 
stimulus.  Thus  if,  as  it  sits  upright  in  the  usual  attitude  of  a 
frog,  the  skin  of  its  foot  be  pinched,  it  will  jump;  whilst,  if  thrown 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      277 

into  water,  it  will  swim,  just  like  the  brainleso  water-beetle  already 
mentioned 

But  if,  instead  of  removing  the  whole  of  the  brain,  we  take 
away  (as  in  Goltz's  experiments)  only  the  cerebral  hemispheres, 
leaving  the  whole  axial  cord  uninjured,  the  condition  of  the  frog 
is  precisely  assimilated  to  that  of  the  pigeons  from  which  the 
cerebral  hemispheres  were  removed  by  Flourens,  Magendie,  and 
I.ongetjWith  results  remarkably  similar.  Goltz's  frog,  like  Flourens's 
pigeon,  sits  unmoved  as  if  profoundly  asleep,  apparently  seeing 
nothing  and  hearing  nothing ;  but  it  will  jump  when  irritated,  and 
shows  that  its  movements  are  guided  (whether  consciously  or  not) 
by  the  incidence  of  light  on  its  eyes ;  for  if  a  book  be  placed  at 
some  little  distance  in  front,  between  the  frog  and  the  light,  it  will 
avoid  the  book,  when  excited  to  jump,  by  passing  to  the  right  t 
hand  or  the  left.  And  so  Flourens's  pigeon,  when  excited  to  walk 
by  being  pushed  forwards,  would  avoid  objects  that  lay  in  its 
way  ;  and,  according  to  the  observation  of  Longet,  if  a  lighted 
candle  was  made  to  describe  a  circle  before  its  eyes,  the  head 
of  the  bird  would  move  in  a  corresponding  manner.  Goltz's  frog 
and  Flourens's  pigeon,  moreover,  while  taking  no  notice  of  food, 
and  making  no  effort  to  feed  themselves,  swallow  food  that  is  put 
into  their  mouths,  and  may  be  thus  kept  alive  and  vigorous  for 
weeks  or  months,  Goltz's  frog  croaking  whenever  a  particular 
part  of  its  back  is  stroked.  The  pigeon,  moreover,  gets  upon  its 
legs  again  when  overthrown,  and  moves  its  wings  in  flight  if 
thrown  into  the  air,  thus  showing  that  the  mechanism  of  its 
ordinary  actions  remains  uninjured,  though  it  does  not  spontane- 
ously exert  it.  This  is  proved,  in  regard  to  the  frog,  by  the 
curious  observations  of  Goltz,  which  Professor  Huxley  has  himself 
verified  : — 

"  If  put  on  the  hand  the  frog  sits  there,  crouched,  perfectly 
''quiet,  and  would  remain  so  unless  stimulated  to  action;  but  if 
"the  hand  be  inclined  very  gently  and  slowly,  so  that  the  frog 
"would  naturally  slip  off,  the  creature's  fore-paws  are  shifted  on  to 
"  the  edge  of  the  hand,  until  he  can  just  prevent  himself  from 
"  falling.  If  the  turning  of  the  hand  be  slowly  continued,  he 
"mounts  up  with  great  care  and  deliberation,  putting  first  one  leg 
"  forward  and  then  the  other,  until  he  balances  himself  with  per- 


278  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

"  feet  precision  upon  the  edge,  and  if  the  turning  of  the  hand  is 
"  continued,  over  he  goes,  through  the  opposite  set  of  operations, 
"  until  he  comes  to  be  seated  in  security  upon  the  back  of  the 
"  hand." 

Even  this  we  are  fully  justified  in  attributing  to  the  action  of 
a  mechanism  :  for  we  are  continually  ourselves  making  yet  more 
elaborate  adjustments  of  our  muscular  movements,  to  perform 
some  action  which — originally  voluntary — has  come  to  be  "  me- 
chanical ; "  and  this  under  circumstances  which  forbid  the  idea 
that  the  conscious  will  in  any  way  directs  those  adjustments.  I 
have  already  pointed  out  this  in  the  case  of  ordinary  walking ; 
and  the  balancing  power  of  a  practised  rope-dancer  would  seem, 
from  the  feats  which  he  performs,  to  be  exerted  scarcely  less  auto- 
■^  matically.  So  in  that  most  entertaining  and  suggestive  book, 
"The  Autobiography  of  Robert  Houdin,  Conjuror,"  the  author  tells 
us  that  he  early  in  life  trained  himself  to  the  performance  of  a 
number  of  his  feats  of  dexterity,  whilst  reading  a  book  with 
continuous  attention  ;  and  that  he  thus  gradually  acquired  the 
power  of  keeping /^'wr  balls  in  the  air,  without  a  moment's  distrac- 
tion of  his  thoughts.  And  he  further  tells  us  that  having  a  mind, 
while  writing  this  passage  of  his  memoir,  to  try  to  what  extent 
he  retained  this  power,  after  a  disuse  of  it  for  thirty  years,  he 
found  that  he  could  still  keep  up  three  balls  without  any  interrup- 
tion of  his  reading.  The  purely  automatic  nature  of  an  action 
performed  under  such  circumstances,  fully  justifies  our  attributing 
it  to  a  nervo-muscular  mechanism  ;  but  there  are  these  essential 
differences  between  the  automatism  of  Goltz's  frog  or  of  Flourens's 
pigeon,  and  that  of  Houdin — that  while  the  one  was  original,  the 
other  was  acquired ;  and  that  while  the  one  was  set  going  by  an 
external  stimulus,  the  other  was  put  in  action  by  a  conscious 
intention,  of  which  we  have  every  reason  to  regard  the  cerebrum 
as  the  instrument. 

Of  these  differences  it  appears  to  me  that  Professor  Huxley 
has  lost  sight,  in  his  application  to  man  of  the  conclusions  he 
draws  from  the  automatism  of  animals.  In  refusing  to  credit  the 
spinal  cord  of  the  frog  with  the  power  of  conscious  self-direction, 
which  a  few  physiologists  still  attribute  to  it,  he  takes  his  stand 
(quite  rightly,  as  I  think)  upon  the  facts  of  human  experience; 


THE   DOCTRINE   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      279 

which  show  that  when  any  part  of  the  spinal  cord  has  been  cut  off 
from  the  brain  by  disease  or  injury,  the  portion  of  the  body  below 
the  point  of  section  loses  its  sensibility,  and  that  whatever  action 
its  muscles  may  be  excited  to  perform,  such  action  is  not  only 
independent  of  the  will,  but  incapable  of  being  controlled  by  it. 
But  when  he  argues  from  the  fact  that  because  certain  actions  of 
a  frog  which  appear  to  be  purposive  are  really  automatic,  similar 
actions  of  man  which  express  the  determinations  of  the  conscious 
Ego  really  result  from  the  working  of  an  unconscious  mechanism, 
he  not  only  ignores,  but  distinctly  repudiates,  the  very  experience 
on  which  he  previously  built.  For  even  if  it  could  be  shown  that 
the  spinal  cord  of  man  can  do  all  that  the  same  organ  does  in  the 
frog — if,  for  example,  on  the  application  of  an  irritant  to  one  of 
the  legs  of  a  paraplegic  patient,  the  other  leg  were  to  be  raised  and 
crossed,  so  as  to  rub  it  off, — such  a  fact  would  give  us  no  right  to 
say  that  when  either  this  or  any  other  movement  is  executed  in 
response  to  a  conscious  determination  of  the  Ego,  such  conscious 
determination  has  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  it.  All  that  could  be 
legitimately  inferred  from  it  would  be,  that  the  automatic  apparatus 
is  competent  to  perform  this  feat,  and  that  when  the  conscious 
Ego  executes  it  by  what  we  call  the  mandate  of  his  will,  he  uses 
the  automatic  apparatus  as  its  instrument. 

The  doctrine  that  the  Ego  puts  the  body  in  movement,  not 
(as  formerly  taught)  by  its  immediate  voluntary  control  over  the 
muscles,  but  by  its  power  of  making  the  automatic  apparatus 
perform  anything  that  lies  within  its  capacity — whether  original 
or  acquired — accords  with  all  the  phenomena,  physical,  as  well 
as  psychical ;  whilst  the  doctrine  of  pure  automatism,  based 
entirely  on  the  physical,  is  in  direct  opposition  to  the  psychicah 
Let  us  take  the  act  of  coughing  as  an  example  ;  this  being,  per- 
haps, the  most  purpose-like  of  all  the  originally  automatic  actions 
performed  by  adult  man.  We  admire  the  combination  of  the 
closure  of  the  glottis  with  explosive  expiration,  as  perfectly 
adapted  to  get  rid  of  any  offending  matter  which  has  found  its 
way  into  the  air-passages  ;  and  at  the  same  time  we  recogni::e  the 
fact  that  this  combination  is  madeyv^r  us  and  not  by  us,  and  that, 
when  the  stimulus  is  present  in  sufficient  force,  we  must  execute 
it,  however  strong  may  be  our  desire   to  restrain  it.     But  our 


28o  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

experience  also  tells  us  that  we  can  execute  the  same  act  by 
simi^ly  luilling  to  do  so ;  as,  for  instance,  when  we  wish  to  give 
a  signal,  to  clear  our  throat,  or  to  cough-down  a  troublesome 
speaker.  And  if  I  assert,  on  the  basis  of  every-day  experience, 
that  my  conscious  Ego  can  direct  my  automaton  to  execute  this 
movement,  it  is  surely  no  answer  to  say  that  because  my  auto- 
maton was  competent  to  do  it  for  itself,  therefore  my  conscious 
Ego  really  had  nothing  to  do  with  it  For  supposing  my  air- 
passages  to  be  free  from  any  irritation,  I  do  not  cough  unless  I 
will  to  cough ;  and  my  will  simply  takes  the  place  of  the  stimulus 
which  the  passage  of  a  crumb  of  bread  into  my  larynx  would 
give.  So  Goltz's  frog  and  Flourens's  pigeon,  though  capable  of 
performing  the  ordinary  movements  of  locomotion  when  excited 
to  do  so,  remain  quiescent  in  the  absence  of  such  excitement, 
for  want  of  a  cerebrum  to  supply  the  place  of  the  external 
stimulus  by  one  proceeding  from  the  conscious  Ego.  And 
although  my  bete  may  have  come  to  be  quite  as  capable  as 
Goltz's  frog  or  Flourens's  pigeon,  of  continuing  to  walk  by  itself 
when  my  dine  is  asleep  or  engaged  elsewhere,  it  is  none  the  less 
under  subjection  to  my  ame  when  the  latter  asserts  its  preroga- 
tive ;  the  automatic  movements  of  my  bete  being  then  governed 
by  the  consciously  formed  determinations  of  my  Ego. 

The  higher  we  ascend  in  the  vertebrate  series  towards  man, 
the  more  evident  does  it  become  that  the  ordinary  course  of 
action  is  determined  rather  by  the  intentional  direction  given 
through  the  cerebrum  to  the  working  of  the  automatic  mechanism, 
than  by  its  own  unconscious  operation  ;  in  other  words,  by  reason 
rather  than  by  instinct.  And  in  man  we  find  that  everything  is 
left  to  be  learned  by  experience,  save  what  is  imperatively  required 
for  the  maintenance  of  life — such  as  the  rhythmical  contractions 
of  the  heart,  the  peristaltic  movements  of  the  alimentary  canal, 
the  acts  of  swallowing  and  respiration,  their  combination  in  the 
act  of  sucking,  and  the  like.  Even  the  tendency  to  that  sudden 
closure  of  the  lids  when  danger  is  threatened  to  the  eyes,  which  is 
among  the  most  purely  automatic  of  our  protective  actions,  seems 
to  be  an  acquired  rather  than  a  congenital  instinct. 

It  is  the  very  condition  of  such  acquirement,  however,  that 
the  human  Ego  is  thus  enabled  to  exercise  a  rational  control  over 


THE  DOCTRINE    OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      28 r 

its  automatism  (as  in  ordinary  walking),  which  those  animals  do 
not  possess  whose  locomotion  is  purely  mechanical;  initiating, 
directing,  regulating,  and  checking  its  actions,  with  such  direct- 
ness that  many  have  maintained  that  because  they  were  voluntary 
in  the  first  instance,  they  must  always  remain  so — a  position 
which  seems  to  me  as  unscientific  as  the  doctrine  I  have  already 
combated,  that  because  actions  adapted  to  a  purpose  are  per- 
formed automatically  by  a  frog,  the  actions  which  man  executes 
with  a  determinate  intention  are  really  automatic.  The  human 
Ego  can  even  turn  to  his  own  account  certain  parts  of  his  origin- 
ally automatic  mechanism.  Thus,  although  his  will  does  not 
extend  so  far  into  the  penetralia  of  his  organism,  as  to  enable  him 
to  influence  the  motions  of  his  heart  or  alimentary  canal,  and 
although,  if  he  try  ever  so  hard,  he  cannot  suspend  the  act  of 
breathing  to  the  extent  of  asphyxiating  himself,  he  can  so  regulate 
his  expirations  as  to  make  them  subservient  to  those  vocal  utter- 
ances which  express,  by  a  mechanism  that  has  to  be  trained  to  its 
work,  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  his  mind. 

But  when  we  have  been  thus  led  to  recognize  in  the  cerebrum, 
not  the  original  centre  of  the  whole  nervous  activity  of  the  body, 
but  a  superadded  organ,  in  which  our  sensorial  experiences  are 
registered,  through  the  instrumentality  of  which  they  give  rise  to 
the  states  of  consciousness  designated  as  emotions  and  ideas,  and 
by  whose  downward  action  expression  is  given  to  the  determina- 
tions of  the  Ego,  it  may  still  be  plausibly  maintained  that  the 
whole  series  of  "  molecular  motions  "  of  which  it  is  the  seat,  must 
take  place  in  accordance  with  certain  fixed  and  definite  physical 
laws  ;  and  that  it  is  utterly  unscientific  to  suppose  that  mind  can 
intervene  to  modify  them. 

That  there  is  a  mechanism  of  thought  and  feeling,  the  action 
of  which  forms  part  of  tlie  Hfe  of  the  body,  which  gives  rise  to 
that  succession  of  thoughts  and  feelings  wherein*  the  life  of  the 
mind  may  be  said  to  consist,  and  which  goes  on,  when  left  to 
itself,  according  to  its  original  constitution,  modified  by  the 
influences  subsequently  brought  to  bear  upon  it,  can  be  doubted 
by  no  psychologist  who  is  also  a  physiologist.  The  cerebrum,  as 
was  first  pointed  out  by  Dr.  Laycock,  has  a  reflex  action  of  its 
own,  analogous  to  that  of  the  lower  centres,  but  determined  as  to 


282  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

its  nature  by  the  moJifications  superinduced  upon  its  original 
mechanism  by  acquired  habit ;  and  this  doctrine  is  but  the  physio- 
logical expression  of  the  Herbartian  psychology  of  residua.  The 
response  given  by  this  mechanism,  whether  manifesting  itself  in 
bodily  or  in  mental  action,  is  as  automatic  as  the  act  of  walking, 
or  any  other  sequence  of  movements  which  we  execute  with  the 
like  absence  of  conscious  or  designed  exertion.  We  cannot  help, 
for  example,  the  recurrence  of  ideas  called  up  by  local  or  personal 
associations  ;  nor  can  we  help  the  feelings  of  pain  or  pleasure,  of 
aversion  or  desire,  which  are  inseparably  connected  in  our  minds 
with  these  ideas.  It  would  be  as  unreasonable  to  say  that  we  can 
help  them,  as  it  would  be  to  say  that  we  can  prevent  ourselves 
from  feeling  pain  when  a  pin  is  run  into  our  flesh,  or  pleasure  in 
eating  a  good  dinner  when  we  are  hungry. 

But  is  this  all  ?  Have  we  no  power  to  control  and  direct  this 
automatic  cerebral  action,  as  the  cerebral  action  itself  directs  and 
controls  the  action  of  the  lower  centres  ?  Does  the  body  of  man 
constitute  his  7vhoIe  self,  or  is  there  an  Ego  to  which  that  body  is 
in  any  degree  subservient  ? 

To  these  questions  it  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  within  the 
capacity  of  physiology — limiting  that  term  to  man's  corporeity — 
to  give  an  answer.  If  we  look  at  the  whole  of  our  mental  no  less 
than  our  bodily  activity  as  dependent  upon  the  reflex  action  of 
our  cerebrum,  we  are  undoubtedly  landed  in  an  automatism,  far 
more  varied  indeed,  but  not  less  bound  by  the  laws  of  physical 
causation,  than  the  automatism  of  the  ascidian  to  which  it  is  now 
fashionable  to  trace  back  our  pedigree.  But  to  say  that  this  is 
the  only  way  in  which  science  permits  us  to  regard  it,  is  (as  it 
seems  to  me)  to  disregard  that  on  which  all  science  is  based—- 
experience.  Surely  our  own  immediate  mental  experiences  are  as 
worthy  of  confidence,  as  are  deductions  drawn  from  phenomena 
outside  ourselves,  which  we  can  only  rightly  interpret  on  the  basis 
afforded  by  those  very  experiences  ;  the  test  of  the  validity  of  such 
interpretation  being  furnished  by  their  conformity  to  our  other 
immediate  experiences.  And  if  we  are  led  by  physiological  evi- 
dence to  recognize  in  the  cerebrum  a  power  of  directing  and  con- 
trolling the  automatism  of  the  axial  cord,  I  do  not  see  on  what 
ground  we  are  to  reject  the  testimony  of  direct  consciousness, 


THE  DOCTRINE   OF   HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.      283 

that  the  automatism  of  the  cerebrum  is  itself  directed  and  con- 
trolled by  some  higher  power. 

That  we  can  form  no  conception  of  the  nature  of  the  causal 
relation  between  mental  and  bodily  phenomena,  is  nothing  to  the 
purpose — as  Professor  Huxley  himself  distinctly  admits  in  regard 
to  the  production  of  sensations  and  other  mental  changes  by 
"modes  of  motion"  of  the  nervous  system.  But  if  (to  use  his 
own  appropriate  terms)  neuroses  can  give  rise  to  psychoses,  it  is 
surely  quite  accordant  with  the  great  fundamental  principle  of 
interaction  to  affirm  that  conversely  psychoses  can  give  rise  to 
neuroses  ;  just  as  the  electricity  generated  in  a  voltaic  battery  by 
chemical  change,  can  itself  produce  chemical  change.  Professor 
Clifford,  indeed,  refuses  to  admit  a  causal  relation  either  way, 
giving  no  other  reason  for  his  refusal  than  his  inability  to  conceive 
how  a  "motion  of  molecules"  can  be  produced  in  any  other 
mode  than  by  a  motion  of  neighbouring  molecules.  But  I  am 
yet  to  learn  that  either  in  this  or  any  other  case,  our  deductions 
from  experience  are  to  be  limited  by  our  ability  to  supply  their 
rationale. 


13 


284  NATURE  AND  MAN. 


X. 

THE  LIMITS  OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM. 

[Preface  to  the  fourth  edition  of  the  "  Principles  of  Mental  Physiology," 
1S76.] 

Since  the  first  issue  of  the  following  treatise,  the  question  of 
"  Human  Automatism  "  has  largely  engaged  the  attention  of  that 
increasing  portion  of  the  public  mind  which  interests  itself  in 
scientific  inquiry.  The  address  of  the  eminent  physicist  who 
occupied  the  presidential  chair  at  the  Belfast  meeting  of  the  British 
Association,  embodied  a  philosophical  creed  of  which  it  seems  a 
necessary  corollary,  that  all  mental  as  well  as  bodily  activity,  being 
the  outcome  of  the  "potentialities"  of  matter,  is  subject  to  physical 
conditions  alone. — The  distinguished  biologist  who  brilliantly  ex- 
pounded at  the  same  meeting  the  Cartesian  doctrine  that  "  Animals 
are  Automata,"  explicitly  maintained  (in  direct  opposition  to 
Descartes  himself)  that  Man  is  only  a  more  complicated  and 
variously  endowed  automaton  :  his  bodily  actions  being  determined 
solely  by  physical  causes  ;  the  succession  of  his  mental  states 
depending  entirely  upon  the  molecular  activities  of  his  cerebrum ; 
and  the  movements  he  is  accustomed  to  regard  as  expressing  his 
feelings,  or  as  executing  his  intentions,  having  their  real  origin  in 
brain-changes,  of  which  those  feelings  and  intentions  are  the  mere 
concomitant  "  symbols  in  consciousness."  * — Professor  Huxley's 
pronunciamento  was  soon  followed  by  that  of  an  able  mathematician, 
who  brought  to  that  profoundly  difiicult  problem  of  "  body  and 
mind  "  which  has  exercised  the  greatest  intellects  from  Aristotle 
to  J.  S.  Mill,  the  training  of  a  skilled  athlete,  who  knocks  down 
*  Fortnightly  Revierv,  November,  1874,  p.  577. 


THE   LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         285 

with  one  vigorous  blow  any  opponent  unprepared  for  his  pecuHar 
mode  of  attack.  Relying  exclusively  upon  physical  experiences, 
Professor  Clifford  affirmed  without  the  smallest  hesitation,*  that  as 
the  only  thing  which  can  possibly  be  conceived  to  influence  matter 
is  either  the  position  or  the  motion  of  surrounding  matter,  the 
statement  "that  the  will  influences  matter"  is  simply  "  nonsense  ;" 
an  affirmation  which  assumes  that  Professor  Clifford  knows  all 
about  matter  and  its  dynamical  relations,  and  therefore  has  an 
unquestionable  right  to  say  that  mankind  at  large  are  wrong  in  the 
conviction  that  the  movements  of  their  bodies  are  in  any  way 
directed  by  their  minds. 

From  the  confidence  with  which  what  are  asserted  to  be  the 
inevitable  conclusions  of  physiological  science  are  now  advanced 
in  proof  of  the  doctrine  of  human  automatism,  it  might  be  supposed 
that  some  new  facts  of  pecuhar  importance  had  been  discovered, 
or  some  more  cogent  deductions  drawn  from  the  facts  previously 
known.  But  after  an  attentive  re-examination  of  the  whole  ques- 
tion, I  find  nothing  in  the  results  of  more  recent  researches  to 
shake  the  conviction  at  which  I  arrived  nearly  forty  5^ears  ago,t  of 
the  existence  of  a  fundamental  distinction,  not  only  between  the 
rational  actions  of  sentient  beings  guided  by  experience,  and  the 
automatic  movements  of  creatures  whose  whole  life  is  obviously 
but  the  working  of  a  mechanism, —  but  also  between  those  actions 
(common  to  man  and  intelligent  brutes)  which  are  determined  by 
a  preponderating  attraction  towards  an  object  present  to  the  con- 
sciousness, and  those  (peculiar,  as  I  believe,  to  man)  in  which 
there  is,  at  one  stage  or  another,  that  distinct  purposive  interven- 
tion of  the  self-conscious  Ego  which  we  designate  will,  whereby  the 
direction  of  the  activity  is  modified. 

What  modern  research  seems  to  me  to  have  done,  is  to  eluci- 
date the  mechanism  of  automatic  action  ;  to  define  with  greater 
precision  the  share  it  takes  in  the  diversified  phenomena  of  animal 
life,  psychical  as  well  as  physical ;  and  to  introduce  a  more  scientific 
mode  of  thought  into  the  physiological  part  of  the  inquiry.  But 
in  so  far  as  those  who  profess  to  be  its  expositors  ignore  the  funda- 

*  Fortnightly  Revinv,  December,  1874,  p.  728. 

t  '*  On  the  Voluntary  and  Instinctive  Actions  of  Living  Beings,"  in  the 
Edinburgh  Medical  and  Surgical  Journal,  No.  132  (1837). 


286  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

mental  facts  of  consciousness  on  which  Descartes  himself  built  up 
his  philosophical  fabric,  dwelling  exclusively  on  physical  action  as 
the  only  thing  with  which  science  has  to  do,  and  repudiating  the 
doctrine  (based  on  the  universal  experience  of  mankind)  that  the 
mental  states  which  we  call  volitions  and  emotions  have  a  causative 
relation  to  bodily  changes,  they  appear  to  me  to  grasp  only  one 
half  of  the  problem,  to  see  only  one  side  of  the  shield.  That  the 
principle  of  the  conservation  of  energy  holds  good  not  less  in  the 
living  body  than  in  the  inorganic  world,  I  was  myself  among  the 
earliest  to  maintain.*  That  in  the  most  powerful  muscular  effort 
which  can  be  called  forth  by  the  human  will,  there  is  no  more  a 
creation  of  energy  than  in  an  automatic  convulsion,  I  believe  as 
firmly  as  Professor  Clifford.  And  that  the  general  tendency  of 
modern  scientific  research  is  to  extend  the  domain  of  law  to  every 
form  of  mundane  change, — the  belief  in  the  uniformity  of  causation 
being  now  assumed  as  axiomatic  in  all  scientific  procedure, — I 
recognize  as  fully  as  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer.  This  tendency  could 
not  be  expressed  more  forcibly  than  in  the  following  citation  from 
Mr.  H.  Sidgwick's  recent  treatise  : — 

"The  belief  that  events  are  determinately  related  to  the  state 
"  of  things  immediately  preceding  them,  is  now  held  by  all  com- 
"  petent  thinkers  in  respect  of  all  kinds  of  occurrences  except  human 
"  volitions.  It  has  steadily  grown  both  intensively  and  extensively, 
"  both  in  clearness  and  certainty  of  conviction,  and  in  universality 
"  of  application,  as  the  human  mind  has  developed  and  human 
"  experience  has  been  systematized  and  enlarged.  Step  by  step,  in 
"successive  departments  of  fact,  conflicting  modes  of  thought 
"  have  receded  and  faded,  until  at  length  they  have  vanished  every- 
"  where,  except  from  this  mysterious  citadel  of  will."  f 

Before  inquiring,  however,  whether  there  is  adequate  ground 
for  regarding  the  human  will  in  this  exceptional  light,  it  may  be 
well  to  consider  what  basis  there  is  for  the  assumption  that  the 
range  of  physical  causation  extends  itself  from  the  sphere  of  matter 
to  that  of  mind, — in  other  words,  that  moral  causation  and  physical 
causation  are  convertible  terms. 

*  "  On  the  Mutual  Relations  of  the  Vital  and  Physical  Forces,"  Philosophical 
Transactions,  1850. 

t  "  The  Methods  of  Ethics,"  p.  47. 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         287 

It  may  be  fairly  urged,  on  one  side,  that  the  tendency  of 
modern  scientific  investigation  has  been  to  show  that  a  very  large 
proportion  (if  not  the  whole)  of  those  changes  whose  succession 
constitutes  our  mental  life,  are  determinately  related,  on  the  one 
hand,  to  the  mental  states  which  immediately  preceded  them,  and, 
on  the  other,  to  the  material  conditions  of  the  bodily  organism. 
The  pure  metaphysician,  who  studies  the  "  laws  of  thought  "  in  the 
abstract,  as  if  man  consisted  of  mind  without  body,  no  more  doubts 
the  former,  than  the  physiologist,  who  works  upwards  from  body 
to  mind,  and  studies  the  successions  of  consciousness  as  functions 
of  the  nervous  system,  can  question  the  latter.  And  the  psycho- 
logist, whose  object  (to  use  the  words  of  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer)  is 
to  elucidate  "not  the  connection  between  internal  phenomena,  nor 
*'  the  connection  between  external  phenomena,  but  the  connection 
"  between  these  two  connections,"  and  who  studies  the  relation 
between  psychical  phenomena  and  physical  conditions  through  the 
whole  range  of  the  animal  kingdom,  interpreting  these  phenomena 
by  a  scientific  scrutiny  of  his  own  experiences,  and  applying  the 
knowledge  thus  gained  to  the  explanation  of  the  actions  of  organisms 
whose  constitution  resembles  his  own  (this  inquiry  being  the  special 
object  of  the  present  treatise),  finds  himself  irresistibly  brought  to 
the  conclusion  that  automatism  *  has  a  very  large  share  in  the  life 
of  every  human  being;  and  is  thus  naturally  led  to  question 
whether  there  is  atiy  part  of  man's  action  which  is  exempted  from 
the  law  of  physical  causation. 

The  corrective  to  this  view,  however,  appears  to  me  to  be 
furnished  by  the  intelligent  study  of  that  large  class  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  human  nature  which  lies  patent  to  every  trained 
observer  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events.  For  the  more  carefully 
he  studies  these  phenomena,  the  more  clearly  is  he  led  to  see  that, 
as  has  been  pithily  said  by  Emerson,  "  Thoughts  rule  the  World  ;" 
and  that,  though  the  spheres  of  moral  and  physical  causation 
impinge  (as  it  were)  upon  one  another,  they  are  in  themselves 
essentially  distinct     The  influence  of  a  great  idea  conceived  by  a 

*  In  the  term  "  Automatism,"  as  used  here  and  elsewhere,  I  include  not 
merely  those  bodily  but  those  mental  activities,  which  ai'e  detcrniwatdy  related 
to  (or,  in  other  words,  are  caused  bv)  previous  bodily  or  mental  activities,  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  choice  or  self-direction  on  the  part  of  the  Ego. 


288  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

thinker  in  his  closet,  in  dominating  the  action  of  an  entire  nation, 
is  utterly  disproportioned  to  any  conceivable  play  of  molecular 
forces  that  can  be  excited  by  the  physical  agency  of  the  thinker  in 
putting  his  idea  into  speech  or  writing.  The  moral  power  of  the 
"  thoughts  that  breathe,  and  words  that  burn  "  in  the  utterances 
of  the  poet,  cannot  be  correlated,  like  the  mechanical  energy 
exerted  by  his  muscles  in  the  writing  of  his  verse,  with  the  quantity 
of  food  he  may  have  consumed  in  their  production.  And  the  new 
direction  that  may  be  given  to  the  whole  course  of  two  lives,  by 
the  faintest  expression  of  emotion  in  a  tone,  a  look,  or  a  touch, 
cannot  be  brought  to  any  common  measure,  either  with  those 
muscular  contractions,  or  with  those  molecular  changes  in  nervous 
matter,  which  are  the  physical  causes  of  its  manifestation. 

But  to  this  it  may  be  replied  that,  even  when  we  look  at  human 
action  from  its  mental  side,  without  any  regard  to  physical  ante- 
cedents, we  cannot  help  recognizing  in  it  the  principle  of  causation 
by  character  and  circumstances ;  and  that  without  the  power  of 
prediction  which  we  derive  from  organized  experience,  as  is  well 
stated  by  Mr.  Sidgwick  {op.  at.  p.  48),  social  life  would  be  im- 
possible.    But  while  everyone  admits  the  existence  of  uniformities 
in  human  action  which  constitute  the  basis  of  our  social  fabric, 
every  one  also  admits  that  the  closest  observation  of  these  uni- 
formities, and  the  most  sagacious  analysis  of  their  conditions,  does 
not  justify  anything  more  than  a  "  forecast  "  of  the  course  of  action, 
either  of  individuals  or  of  communities,  in  any  given  contingency. 
"Who  would   have  thought   that   he  would   have  done  such  a 
"  thing  ?  "  is  our  frequent  exclamation  in  regard  to  some  one  of 
whom  we  considered  that  we  had  a  most  intimate  knowledge  :  that 
"the  unexpected  [in  politics]  is  what  always  happens,"  has  passed 
into  a  proverb.     It  is,  of  course,  open  for  the  automatist  to  assert 
that  the  element  of  uncertainty  here  arises,  as   in  the  case  of 
weather-forecasts,  from   the  complexity   of    the   conditions,   and 
from  our  imperfect  acquaintance  with  them  ;  and  he  might  fairly 
urge,  on  general  grounds,  that  if  we  could  grasp  the  whole  of  the 
antecedents,  and  measure  the  potency  of  each,  no  "  unconditioned" 
or  self-originating  element  would  be  found  to  have  interfered  with 
the  regular  sequence  of  cause  and  effect.     But  he  has  no  right 
whatever  to  assume  this.     The  whole  history  of  science  shows  that 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.        289 

the  investigation  of  "  residual  phenomena"  has  been  a  most  fertile 
means  of  discovery  in  regard  to  agencies  not  previously  suspected. 
And  until  it  shall  have  been  proved  that  there  are  no  human 
actions  which  cannot  be  accounted  for  by  "  unconditional 
"  sequence,"  such  an  assumption  cannot  be  admitted  as  an  ade- 
quate disproof  of  the  testimony  borne  by  human  consciousness 
to  the  opposite  effect.  "  It  is  impossible  for  me  to  think,"  says 
Mr.  Sidgwick  {iip.  cit.  p.  51),  "in  the  moment  of  deliberate 
"volition,  that  my  volition  is  completely  determined  by  my  formed 
"  character  and  the  motives  acting  upon  it.  The  opposite  con- 
"viction  is  so  strong  as  to  be  absolutely  unshaken  by  the  evidence 
"brought  against  it.  I  cannot  believe  it  to  be  illusory.  .  .  .  No 
"amount  of  experience  of  the  sway  of  motives  even  tends  to  make 
"  me  distrust  my  intuitive  consciousness,  that  in  resolving  after 
"  deliberation  I  exercise  free  choice  as  to  which  of  the  motives 
"  acting  on  me  shall  prevail.  Nothing  short  of  absolute  proof  that 
"  this  consciousness  is  erroneous,  could  overcome  the  force  with 
"  which  it  announces  itself  as  certain ;  and  I  cannot  perceive  tliat 
'•'such  proof  has  been  given." 

It  is  alleged,  indeed,  that  the  belief  entertained  by  all  men — 
except  philosophers — in  their  own  freedom  of  choice  (within 
certain  limits)  between  different  modes  of  action,  is  an  illusion  of 
ignorant  "common  sense,"  which,  like  the  vulgar  belief  that  the 
sun  moves  round  the  earth,  is  utterly  dispelled  by  the  light  of 
science.  But  the  two  beliefs  rest  upon  an  entirely  different  basis. 
The  latter,  like  other  erroneous  beliefs  which  arise  in  the  exercise 
of  our  senses,  is  an  inference  from  the  facts  of  consciousness,  which 
a  more  enlarged  experience  (such  as  that  afforded  by  almost  every 
railway-journey)  shows  to  be  untenable :  the  former  is  the  imme- 
diate affirmation  of  consciousness  itself,  the  assurance  of  which,  its 
constant  recurrence  under  a  great  variety  of  conditions  only  serves 
to  confirm. 

The  direct  testimony  of  consciousness  as  to  any  one  of  its 
primal  cognitions,  must  be  held,  as  it  seems  to  me,  of  higher 
account  than  the  deductions  of  reason  from  data  afforded  by  other 
cognitions  ;  constituting,  in  fact,  a  "  base  of  verification  "  to  which 
all  our  logical  triangulation  must  be  worked  back,  if  we  desire  to 
test  its  validity.     And  no  fact  of  consciousness  as  to  which  man- 


290  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

kind  in  general  is  in  accord,  can  be  disproved,  save  by  the  con- 
tradiction afforded  by  some  other  primary  cognition  of  superior 
validity.  For,  as  has  been  truly  said  by  John  S.  Mill,  "feeling 
"  and  thought  are  much  more  real  than  anything  else  ;  they  are 
"  the  only  things  which  we  directly  know  to  be  real."  *  We  know 
nothing  about  matter,  as  Berkeley  demonstrated,  except  by  inference 
from  the  manner  in  which  its  states  affect  our  consciousness ; 
"  itself  we  do  not  perceive  ;  we  are  not  conscious  of  it."  And 
hence  those  so-called  "experiences,"  on  the  basis  afforded  by 
which  the  whole  fabric  of  physical  science  is  built  up,  being  really 
nothing  else  than  "  assumptions  to  account  for  our  sensations " 
(Mill),  can  only  be  accepted  as  valid,  in  so  far  as  they  accord  with 
those  primal  cognitions  which  we  cannot  dissociate  from  our  own 
consciousness  of  personal  agency.  Thus,  for  example,  when 
Professor  Clifford  affirms  (loc.  cit.)  that  no  interaction  can  possibly 
take  place  between  bodily  and  mental  states,  the  physical  facts 
going  along  by  themselves,  and  the  mental  facts  going  along  by 
themselves,  on  two  utterly  different  platforms, — he  calls  upon  us 
to  receive  as  the  indubitable  teaching  of  science,  the  result  of  a 
process  of  reasoning  based  upon  one  set  of  experiences  alone ; 
notwithstanding  that  this  is  completely  contradicted  by  another 
set,  which,  as  appealing  much  more  directly  to  our  own  conscious- 
ness, has  a  stronger  claim  upon  our  acceptance.  For  all  mankind 
— except  philosophers  of  Professor  Clifford's  school — accept  it  as 
a  fact,  "  based  on  the  normal  experience  of  healthy  men,"  that, 
running  a  pin  into  one's  flesh  is  the  cause  of  that  mental  state 
which  we  call  pain  (Huxley,  op.  cit.  p.  574) ;  a  certain  neurosis,  or 
molecular  change  in  the  nervous  system,  producing  a  corresponding 
psychosis,  or  affection  of  the  consciousness.  And,  conversely,  since 
all  mankind — except  the  followers  of  Professors  Huxley  and 
Clifford — accept  it  as  a  fact,  "  based  on  the  normal  experience  of 
healthy  men,"  that  the  state  of  mind  which  we  term  volition  is 
the  cause  of  the  muscular  movement  that  gives  expression  to  it — 
a  psychosis  producing  the  neurosis  which  calls  forth  muscular  con- 
traction— I  cannot  see  that  this  conviction  can  be  nullified  by  any 
inference  drawn  from  an  order  of  facts  that  is  capable  of  an  entirely 
different  interpretation.  The  doctrine  propounded  by  Professor 
*  *'  Posthumous  Essays,"  p.  202. 


THE   LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         291 

Huxley  in  his  Belfast  lecture,  that  the  feeling  we  call  volition  is 
not  the  cause  of  the  voluntary  act,  but  the  "  symbol  in  conscious- 
ness "  of  that  state  of  the  brain  which  is  the  immediate  cause  of 
that  act  (like  the  blowing  of  the  steam-whistle,  which  signals,  but 
does  not  cause,  the  starting  of  the  locomotive),  and  that  the 
strongest  volition  has  therefore  no  power  in  itself  to  call  forth  a 
movement,  seems  to  me  to  find  its  best  answer  in  the  explicit  state- 
ment which  he  himself  put  forth  not  many  years  previously,  that 
"  the  belief  that  our  volition  counts  for  something  as  a  condition 
"  in  the  course  of  events,"  is  one  which  "  can  be  verified  experi- 
"  mentally  as  often  as  we  like  to  try,"  and  therefore  "stands  upon 
"the  strongest  foundation  upon  which  any  belief  can  rest,  and 
"  forms  one  of  our  highest  truths."  * 

When  we  come  to  examine  the  reasons  latterly  assigned  by 
Professor  Huxley  for  giving  up  this  assured  belief,  we  find  them 
mainly  based  on  the  fact  that  certain  actions  which  would  be 
ordinarily  accounted  volitional  (as  being  initiated  by  an  intentional 
effort)  in  man,  can  be  performed  under  circumstances  which 
strongly  indicate  a  purely  automatic  causation. 

Thus  it  has  been  shown  by  Goltz,  that  a  frog  from  which  the 
cerebrum  has  been  removed,  and  which  (according  to  ordinary 
physiological  doctrine)  has  consequently  lost  the  power  of 
voluntary  movement,  will  jump  when  irritated,  the  direction  of 
this  movement  being  affected  by  the  incidence  of  light  upon  its 
eyes  \  though  making  no  effort  to  feed  itself,  it  will  swallow  food 
put  into  its  mouth,  and  may  thus  be  kept  alive  for  weeks  or 
months  ;  and  will  utter  its  croak  when  a  particular  part  of  its 
back  is  stroked.  But  further,  although,  when  put  on  the  hand, 
the  frog  sits  there  crouched,  perfectly  quiet,  and  would  remain 
so  unless  stimulated  to  action,  yet  (says  Professor  Huxley)  "  if 
"the  hand  be  inclined  very  gently  and  slowly,  so  that  the  frog 
"would  naturally  slip  off,  the  creature's  forepaws  are  shifted  on  to 
"  the  edge  of  the  hand  until  he  can  just  prevent  himself  from 
"  falling.  If  the  turning  of  the  hand  be  continued,  he  mounts 
"  up  with  great  care  and  deliberation,  putting  first  one  leg  forward, 
"and  then  the  other,  until  he  balances  himself  with  perfect  pre- 
"  cision  upon  the  edge,  and  in  the  turning  of  the  hand  over  he 

*  "  Lay  Sermons,"  p.  160. 


»92 


NATURE  AND  MAN. 


"goes  through  the  opposite  set  of  operations,  until  he  comes  to 
"iDe  seated  in  security  upon  the  back  of  the  hand." — {Fortnightly 
Review,  Nov.  1874,  p.  567). 

Now,  that  Man  is  himself  continually  making  yet  more  elabo- 
rate adjustments  of  his  muscular  movements,  under  circumstances 
which  forbid  the  idea  that  they  are  in  any  way  directed  by  his 
conscious  will,  is  expressly  shown  in  various  parts  of  the  present 
work.  Some  of  these  actions,  as  coughing  and  sucking,  are 
originally  or  pi'imarily  automatic ;  and  can  be  experimentally 
shown  not  to  depend  upon  cerebral  instrumentality,  except 
when  performed  in  obedience  to  a  volitional  mandate.  Others, 
as  walking  erect,  are  originally  performed  under  the  conscious 
purposive  direction  of  the  mind;  but,  when  they  have  once 
become  habitual,  they  may  be  repeated  involuntarily,  and  even 
unconsciously,  by  a  secondary  or  acquired  automatism,  the 
mechanism  of  which  has  constructed  itself  in  virtue  of  the 
tendency  of  the  nervous  system  to  grow  to  the  mode  in  which  it  is 
habitually  exercised.  And  this  is  equally  true  of  those  more 
special  activities  which  have  been  acquired  by  "  training," — 
such  as  rope-dancing,  music-playing,  juggling  with  balls,  etc.  ; 
for  these  may  be  performed  (as  we  are  accustomed  truly 
enough  to  say)  "mechanically"  by  any  individual  by  whom 
they  have  been  so  habitually  repeated  as  to  have  become  a 
"  second  nature." 

Of  this  general  principle,  of  which  numerous  examples  will 
hereafter  come  before  the  reader,  the  following  singularly  curious 
illustration,  which  I  have  lately  received  from  a  trustworthy  source 
(a  clergyman  in  the  north  of  England),  may  be  here  presented : — 
"  While  I  was  a  student  in  Dublin  University,  I  was  at  an 
"evening  party  at  which  a  lady  was  asked  to  play  for  dancing. 
"  Unfortunately  she  had  taken  far  too  much  at  supper ;  and  was, 
"  in  fact,  after  she  had  begun  to  play,  so  drunk  as  to  be  totally 
"  unable  to  rise  off  the  stool.  I  was  standing  near  the  piano, 
"  and  saw  her  eyes  close,  her  head  fall  forward,  and  give  every 
"manifestation  of  sleep  except  snore  aloud.  But  her  playing 
"went  on  in  perfect  time;  and,  in  fact,  the  difficulty  was,  when 
"  she  had  ended  a  waltz  or  quadrille,  to  make  her  stop  ;  for  when 
"she  was  shaken  out  of  sleep,  it  was  evidently  her  intention  to 


THE   LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.        293 

"go  on  the  whole  night.  To  set  her  going  again,  it  was  only 
"  necessary  to  place  her  hands  on  the  keys,  and  she  would  begin 
"  a  new  quadrille,  soon  again  relapsing  into  sleep,  and  yet  con- 
"  tinning  to  play  well.  I  was  studying  a  deep  course  of  nieta- 
"  physics  at  the  time,  for  my  degree  in  those  subjects  in  Trinity 
"  College  ;  and  the  case  made  a  great  impression  on  my  mind. 
"  I  could  not  account  for  it  on  any  of  my  then  principles  \  but  I 
"see  it  perfectly  now." 

I  have  recently  learned,  too,  that  it  is  no  uncommon  ex- 
perience in  telegraph  offices,  for  transmitters  of  messages,  when 
they  have  been  for  some  time  in  the  service,  to  work  the  instru- 
ments without  conscious  thought  of  what  they  are  doing. 
"They  read  the  words,"  says  my  informant,  "  pass  them  through 
"their  minds,  and  transfer  them  to  the  sending  part  of  the 
"apparatus,  just  as  unconsciously  and  automatically  as  Wheat- 
"  stone's  transmitter  does.  I  have  often  found  myself,"  he  con- 
tinues, "  indulging  in  trains  of  thought,  or  even  listening  to  a 
"  conversation  that  might  be  going  on  near  me,  and  yet  continued 
"to  'receive'  and  'send'  just  as  if  I  was  giving  my  whole 
"attention  to  the  work;  and  when  I  came  to  see  the  messages 
"afterwards,  I  knew  that  they  had  passed  through  my  hands 
"  only  by  the  handwriting.  Once,  indeed,  when  on  night  duty, 
"  I  became  completely  unconscious  whilst  sending  a  long  anvl 
"  monotonous  '  group '  message,  consisting  entirely  of  figures, 
"and  woke  up  bewildered,  and  had  to  ask  the  receiving  station 
"  '  after  what  ? '  before  I  could  proceed.  Some  clerks  believe 
"  that  the  work  is  done  more  accurately  when  done  auto- 
"matically;  but  I  scarcely  think  this  justified  by  experience." 

However  strange  these  statements  may  seem,  they  find  their 
parallel  in  our  own  familiar  experience.  For  almost  every  one 
who  has  been  much  in  the  habit  of  reading  aloud,  is  well  aware 
that  he  may  continue  to  do  this  with  perfect  articulation,  punctua- 
tion, emphasis,  and  intonation,  while  his  mind  is  so  completely 
engrossed  by  some  entirely  different  subject,  that,  until  his  atten- 
tion is  recalled  to  it.  he  is  no  more  aware  that  he  is  reading,  or 
conscious  of  the  guidance  he  has  been  receiving  from  his  visual 
sense,  than  is  the  philosopher  of  the  pursuance  of  his  walk  whilst 
his  whole  mind  is  given  to  the  solution  of  some  knotty  problem. 


294  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

The  only  difference  between  the  case  of  the  reader-aloud 
and  that  of  the  telegraph-clerk,  is  that  the  words  whose  visual 
pictures  have  fallen  on  the  retina,  are  expressed  in  the  one  case 
by  acts  of  vocalization,  in  the  other  by  a  special  kind  of  finger- 
language.  So,  the  case  of  the  musical  performer  who  continued 
to  play  quadrilles  in  her  sleep,  is  analogous  to  that  of  the  ambula- 
tory thinker ;  a  previously  acquired  succession  of  movements, 
once  initiated,  going  on  without  conscious  direction  ;  each  move- 
ment being  suggested  by  that  which  preceded  it,  and  itself 
suggesting  the  next. 

The  same  explanation  seems  to  me  to  be  legitimately  ap- 
plicable to  the  case  of  the  French  sergeant,  on  which  great  stress 
is  laid  by  Professor  Huxley  {loc.  cit.  p.  568)  as  indicating  that 
what  we  are  accustomed  to  call  voluntary  action  in  ourselves  is 
really  automatic.     For,  as  a  consequence  of  a  wound  in  the  head 
received  at  Gravelotte,  this  man  frequently  passed  spontaneously 
into  a  state  closely  resembling   that    of  the  artificially-induced 
hypnotism,  whose    phenomena  are  described    in  the   latter  part 
of  this  treatise.      The   essential   peculiarity  of  this  state  is  the 
suspension  of  the  directing  and  controlling  power  of  the  Will ; 
so  that  the  whole  course  of  action  is  determined  automatically 
by  suggestion.       And    its    phenomena,    so    far    from    affording 
any  evidence  that  the  same  is  the  case  in   our   normal   state, 
and  that  what  we  call  Will  is  only  the  "  symbol  in  conscious- 
ness "of  a  material  change  which  would  equally  take  place  without 
it,  seem  to  me  to  testify  exactly  the  contrary.    For  we  cannot  help 
recognizing  a  marked   difference   between  the  normal  and   the 
abnormal  states  of  such  subjects ;  and,  as  I  think  I  have  demon- 
strated  in   my   discussion   of  these   and   of    allied   states,   that 
difference   essentially   consists   in   the   suspension  in   the   latter 
state  of   that  volitional  power,  which  in  the  former  directs  and 
controls  the   successions  of    thought  and  action.      And  on  the 
recognition  of  this  difference  will  depend  our  appreciation  of  the 
relative  moral  "  responsibility  "  of  the  subjects  of  these  states,  for 
the  same  actions  performed  in  the  normal  and  in  the  abnormal  con- 
ditions respectively.     Thus  we  should  hold  the  French  sergeant 
fully  "responsible"  for  any  theft  he  might  commit  when  in  full 
possession  of  his  wits;  and  yet   for  the  very  same  action  per- 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.        295 

formed  in  his  automatic  state,  we  should  be  ready  to  admit  the 
excuse  that  he  had  no  power  of  self-control  (p.  302). 

Thus,  as  it  seems  to  me,  the  cases  cited  by  Professor  Huxley 
are  readily  explicable  by  the  principle  of  secotidary  or  acquired 
automatism  first  explicitly  laid  down  by  Hartley ;  this  taking  the 
place  in  man  (save  as  regards  such  actions  as  breathing  and  suck- 
ing, which  are  essential  to  the  life  of  the  infant)  of  those  which 
are  primary  or  original  among  the  lower  animals.  And  I  hold 
it  to  be  the  legitimate  inference  from  the  fact  that  certain  actions 
of  the  frog,  resembling  those  which  man  might  execute  volitionally 
under  like  circumstances,  are  performed  automatically,  that  a 
provision  exists  in  the  inherited  structure  of  the  frog,  for  doing 
that  which  man  only  learns  to  do  by  intentional  "  training," — an 
inference  which  all  physiological  study  tends  to  confirm.  For  the 
fullest  recognition  of  automatism  in  the  performances  of  Goltz's 
frog  does  not  in  the  least  invalidate  the  testimony  of  my  own 
consciousness,  that  when,  being  called  on  to  balance  my  body 
under  some  unaccustomed  circumstances  (as  in  crossing  a  stream 
on  a  narrow  plank,  or  over  a  series  of  stepping-stones),  I  give  my 
whole  attention  to  the  act,  the  movements  of  my  body  are  executed 
under  my  intentional  direction.  Again,  the  fact  that  various 
actions  have  become  so  familiar  to  me  by  habit  as  to  be  performed 
automatically,  affords  no  real  contradiction  to  the  testimony  of 
my  own  conciousness,  that  when  I  was  first  trained  (or  was 
training  myself)  to  execute  them,  my  will  issued  the  mandates 
which  were  carried  into  effect  by  my  muscles.  I  cannot  believe 
that  a  piece  of  delicate  handiwork,  such  as  a  minute  dissection, 
or  the  painting  of  a  miniature — requiring  constant  visual  guidance, 
and  trained  exactness  of  muscular  response — can  be  executed 
without  a  distinct  volitional  direction  of  each  movement.  And  I 
find  myself  quite  unable  to  conceive  that  when  I  am  consciously 
attempting,  whether  by  speech  or  by  writing,  to  excite  in  the  minds 
of  my  readers  the  ideas  which  are  present  to  my  own  conscious- 
ness at  the  moment,  it  is  not  my  mind  which  is  putting  my  lips  or 
my  hand  in  motion,  but  that  (as  Professor  Huxley  maintains)  it  is 
my  body  which  is  moving  of  itself,  and  simply  keeping  my  mind 
informed  of  its  movements. 

If  this  doctrine  were  true,  not  only  of  particular  cases,  but  of 


296  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

human  life  generally,  it  is  obvious  that  its  stream  would  flow  on 
exactly  as  it  does,  if  we  had  no  consciousness  at  all  of  what  we 
are  about;  that  the  actions  and  reactions  of  the  " ideagenous 
molecules  "  would  do  the  work  of  the  philosopher,  even  if  they 
never  generated  ideas  in  his  mind ;  that  he  would  give  forth  its 
results  in  books  or  lectures,  not  from  any  intention  or  desire  that 
his  books  should  be  read  and  his  lectures  heard,  so  as  to  bring 
the  thoughts  of  other  minds  into  relation  with  his  own,  but  simply 
because  .certain  molecular  motions  in  his  brain  call  forth  the 
movements  of  speech  or  writing ;  and  that,  in  like  manner,  the 
noblest  works  of  genius — the  master-pieces  of  the  poet,  the  artist, 
and  the  musician — would  none  the  less  be  produced,  if  the 
"symbols  in  consciousness"  were  never  evoked  in  their  pro- 
ducers' nature,  and  would  prove  none  the  less  attractive  to  other 
automata,  if  the  molecular  movements  of  their  brains  should  be 
equally  incapable  of  exciting  either  intellectual  or  emotional 
activity  ;  such  activity  being,  to  use  a  legal  phrase,  mere  "  sur- 
plusage." To  myself  this  seems  like  a  rcductio  ad  absui-dum. 
For  although  I  maintain  in  the  present  treatise  that  an  automatic 
action  may  take  place  in  the  cerebrum,  which,  without  any  inter- 
vention of  consciousness,  may  evolve  products  usually  accounted 
mental,  yet  in  all  such  cases  the  action  takes  place  on  the  lines 
previously  laid  dois^n  by  volitional  direction  ;  being  exactly  parallel, 
in  the  case  of  cerebral  action,  to  that  secondary  or  acquired 
automatism,  by  which  particular  kinds  of  movement,  originally 
acquired  by  "training,"  come  to  be  performed  "  mechanically." 

1  fail  to  find,  then,  in  any  of  the  modern  developments  either 
of  physical  or  physiological  science,  any  adequate  grounds  for 
abandoning  the  position  maintained  in  the  following  treatise,  as 
to  the  direction  and  control  to  which  the  automatic  activity 
of  man  is  subject  in  proportion  to  the  development  of  his 
volitional  power, — that  is,  the  power  exerted  by  the  Ego  not 
only  with  a  distinct  purpose,  but  with  a  consciousness  of  effort,  the 
strength  of  which  is  the  mark  and  measure  of  its  exercise. 

The  direct  testimony  of  consciousness,  in  regard  not  only  to 
the  existence  of  this  volitional  power,  but  also  to  the  self- 
determination  of  the  Ego  in  the  exercise  of  it,  is  borne  out  by 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.        297 

numerous  other  considerations  of  various  degrees  of  cogency, 
more  or  less  intimately  related  to  each  other ;  the  aggregate  of 
which,  like  that  of  the  mutually-supporting  outworks  round  a 
citadel,  adds  enormously  to  the  strength  of  the  position,  though 
each  independently  might  be  inefficient  for  its  defence. 

I.  It  is  supported  by  the  very  existence  of  the  idea  symbolized 
in  the  word  choice ;  an  idea  which  we  could  not  entertain,  if  we 
did  not  find  something  answerable  to  it  in  our  own  subjective 
experience.  For  in  external  nature  there  is  nothing  that  can  be 
truly  termed  "choice."  If  a  piece  of  iron  be  brought  within  the 
sphere  of  attraction  of  two  magnets  placed  on  opposite  sides  of  it, 
one  near  but  feeble,  the  other  strong  but  remote,  we  feel  assured 
that  it  will  be  drawn  towards  the  one  which  makes  the  stronger 
pull  upon  it;  and  we  take  its  motion  in  one  or  the  other  direction, 
as  the  indication  of  the  superior  tractive  force  of  the  magnet 
towards  which  it  tends.  To  use  the  word  "  choice "  in  such  a 
case — to  say  that  the  iron  chooses  towards  which  of  the  magnets 
it  shall  move, — would  be  felt  by  every  one  a  misapplication  of  the 
term.  The  same  would  be  the  case  as  regards  any  other  action 
determined  by  physical  causation.  And  yet  on  the  determinist 
doctrine,  if  I  am  attracted  by  the  temptation  of  an  immediate 
but  immoral  pleasure,  and  am  deterred  from  it  either  by  a  sense 
of  duty  or  by  the  fear  of  the  remote  consequences  of  the  sin,  I 
have  no  more  "  choice  "  as  to  the  course  I  shall  take,  than  has 
the  piece  of  iron  that  is  attracted  in  opposite  directions  by  two 
magnets.  Now  my  contention  is,  not  merely  that  I  have  a  choice, 
but  that  the  very  existence  of  an  idea  which  can  be  derived  from 
no  other  source  than  human  experience,  confirms  the  testimony  of 
my  own  consciousness  to  that  effect.*  And  the  like  confirmation 
is  afforded  by  the  familiar  reply,  "  I  have  no  choice,''  in  cases  in 
which  we  feel  it  to  be  a  necessity  (whether  physical  or  moral)  that 
we  should  take  a  particular  line  of  action. 

That  in  making  our  choice,  and  in  acting  upon  it,  we  are 
determined  by  the  "preponderance  of  motives,"  I  do  not  call  in 
question ;  the  self-determining  power  of  the  will  seeming  to  me 

*  The  case  Feems  to  me  exnctly  parallel  to  that  of  the  notion  of  force, 
which  is  based  on  our  own  consciousness  of  ejfort  in  originating  or  in  resisting 
motion. 


298  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

to  be  exerted  in  modifying  the  preponderance  which  the  motives 
per  se  would  determine.  The  affirmation  that  our  actions  are 
determined  by  the  strongest  motives,  appears  to  me,  indeed,  a 
mere  truism ;  being  only  another  mode  of  saying  that  the  motive 
which  prevails  is  the  strongest.  For  we  have  no  other  test  of  the 
relative  strength  of  motives,  than  that  which  is  afforded  by  our 
experience  of  their  action  in  each  individual  case.  If  we  put  into 
a  balance  two  bodies  of  known  densities,  we  can  predict,  by  the 
comparison  of  their  dimensions,  which  will  preponderate.  But,  if 
the  density  of  one  or  both  is  unknown,  we  can  only  determine 
which  is  the  heavier  by  seeing  which  scale  goes  down.  And  so 
we  can  have  no  other  measure  of  the  relative  strength  of  motives 
of  different  orders,  than  that  which  is  afforded  by  their  respective 
effects  in  the  determination  of  the  conduct.  Now,  all  experience 
shows  that  motives  which  may  exert  a  preponderating  influence  at 
one  moment,  are  comparatively  powerless  at  another;  on  the 
other  hand,  motives  whose  influence  at  one  moment  is  scarcely 
felt,  may  come  to  acquire  a  force  that  makes  them  far  outweigh 
those  which  at  first  overbalanced  them.  This  is  especially 
apparent  when  we  exert  our  volitional  power  of  "  self-control " 
to  check  the  immediate  action  which  is  prompted  by  some  auto- 
matic impulse ;  time  being  thus  gained  for  the  excited  feeling  to 
subside,  and  for  the  "  second  thoughts"  of  the  higher  reason  to 
make  themselves  heard.*  And  a  further  reflection  on  our  own 
mental  experiences  will  satisfy  us,  that  these  variations  in  the 
relative  strength  of  motives  mainly  arise  from  the  degree  of  atten- 
tion that  we  give  to  each  respectively.  An  excited  feeling  which 
would  soon  die  out  if  left  to  itself,  will  retain  its  potency,  or  even 
gain  augmented  force,  if  we  allow  ourselves  to  brood  over  it; 
whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  the  power  of  those  remoter  considera- 
tions which  deliberation  suggests,  increases  in  proportion  as  they 
are  dwelt  on.  And  just  as  in  the  case  of  the  two  magnets,  we 
may  reverse  their  relative  attractions  by  changing  their  respective 
distances  from  the  iron  between  them,  so  can  each  Ego  who  has 
acquired  the  power  of  directing  his  own  course  of  thought  and 

*  It  is  not  always,  however,  that  "second  thoughts  are  best."  For  the 
immediate  impulse  may  be  a  bmevoUnt  one,  and  the  "second  thoughts" 
deliberately  selfish. 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         299 

feeling,  alter  the  relative  potency  of  different  motives  or  sets  of 
motives,  by  detcrminately  directing  his  attention  to  those  wliich 
would  draw  him  in  one  direction,  and  by  partially  or  completely 
excluding  those  of  an  opposite  tendency  from  his  mental  view. 

If  it  be  urged  by  the  Automatist  that  this  fixation  of  the  Ego's 
attention  on  one  set  of  motives  to  the  exclusion  of  the  other,  is 
really  due  to  the  superior  strength  of  the  motive  (supplied  by  his 
previously  formed  character)  which  leads  him  to  desire  so  to  fix  it, 
I  reply  that  no  experience  of  which  I  am  conscious  is  more  real 
to  me,  than  that  if  I  did  not  make  an  effort  to  keep  my  attention 
fixed,  the  desire  alone  would  fail  to  do  it.  I  am  further  conscious 
that  a  great  deal  more  is  "  taken  out  of  me  "  (to  use  an  expressive 
colloquialism)  by  the  prolongation  of  such  a  struggle,  than  by  a 
far  larger  measure  of  undistracted  mental  action.  And  I  ask, 
"Why,  on  the  automatist  theory,  should  this  be?" — To  myself 
it  seems  clear  that  it  is  in  the  control  he  thus  acquires  over  the 
automatism  of  his  nature,  that  Man's //r^^i?/;/  of  choice  essentially 
consists ;  whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  in  virtue  of  his  want  of 
power  to  gain  a  complete  control,  that  \\\s  freedom  is  limited. 

This  view  seems  to  me  to  find  its  strongest  support  in  the 
experience  of  those  who  have  been  most  largely  and  most  success- 
fully engaged  in  the  education  of  the  young.  For,  as  I  have  had 
abundant  opportunities  of  learning,  they  watch  for  the  dawn  of 
this  power  of  retiection  and  deliberation  in  the  child,  endeavour 
to  strengthen  his  feeble  resolution  by  judicious  encouragement, 
lead  him  to  reflect  upon  the  consequences  of  his  misdoing  to 
himself  or  to  others,  and  give  additional  force  to  his  sense  of 
duty  by  earnest  appeals  to  it,  so  as  to  sustain  him  in  a  conflict  to 
which  he  is  as  yet  unequal  if  left  to  himself;  but  at  the  same  time 
they  make  him  feel  that  he  must  not  always  expect  such  help,  and 
that  it  rests  with  himself,  by  habitually  fixing  his  attention  upon 
what  his  reason  and  his  moral  sense  tell  him  he  ought  to  do,  to 
be  able  to  will  to  do  it  against  his  inclination. 

No  experience  is  so  remarkable  in  its  bearing  on  this  question, 
as  that  of  the  philanthropic  men  and  women  who  have  taken  the 
largest  and  most  efiicient  share  in  the  work  of  juvenile  reforma- 
tion. For  they  have  to  deal  with  a  class  of  boys  and  girls,  who 
have  grown  up  to  a  most  unmanageable  age,  in  habits  of  entire 


300  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

unrestrainedness  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  in  no  more  re- 
strainedness  of  action  than  has  been  imposed  on  them  by  external 
coercion  or  by  fear  of  punishment.  These  young  "  reprobates  " 
have  not  the  least  idea  of  self-control,  or  of  doing  anything  else 
than  that  which  their  inclinations  prompt ;  their  notions  of  "  right " 
are  all  based  upon  limited  self-interest ;  and  they  hold  everything 
to  be  "  wrong "  which  interferes  with  what  they  conceive  to  be 
their  own  "rights."  Now  the  first  lesson  that  has  to  be  taught 
them  is  that  of  obedience  to  discipline,  for  which  punishment  has 
often  to  be  used  as  a  motive.  But  in  proportion  as  the  habit  of 
self-cox\\xo\  is  acquired,  appeals  to  the  better  nature  come  to  have 
a  force  superior  to  that  of  mere  coercion  :  and  the  greatest  success 
is  attained  when  that  controlling  power  is  spontaneously  exerted 
under  the  direction  of  the  ought  or  ought  not.  So,  in  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  dormant  moral  sense,  the  first  teaching  goes  to  show 
that  what  the  pupil  considers  his  [or  her]  "  rights  "  are  some  one 
else's  "  wrongs ; "  and  the  golden  rule  is  enforced  by  the  practical 
applications  which  are  found  most  suitable  to  impress  it  on  each 
individual  nature.  Thus  a  foundation  is  laid  for  the  development 
of  that  higher  moral  sense,  on  which  the  principle  of  religious 
obligation  is  most  securely  based.  But  the  result  of  the  most 
successful  eff"ort  in  this  direction  is  only  considered  to  have  been 
attained,  when  the  subject  of  it  has  been  awakened  to  a  full  con- 
sciousness of  possessing  a  power  within  himself  to  resist  temptation 
and  to  act  as  duty  directs ;  which  power  it  rests  with  himself  to 
exert,  and  for  the  non-exercise  of  which  he  is  responsible.* 

Of  course  it  will  be  replied  by  the  automatist,  that  all  such 
"training"  is  part  of  the  external  influences  which  go  to  the 
formation  of  the  character;  and  that  its  efficacy  depends  upon 
the  degree  in  which  the  sense  of  duty  can  be  thus  developed  by 
judicious  culture  into  efficient  predominance.  But  I  affirm  it  to 
be  a  matter  of  notorious  experience,  that  it  is  the  reiteration  of 
the  assurance  that  the  child  or  juvenile  ofi"ender  can  govern  his 
temper,  if  he  will  try  hard  enough ;  that  he  can  overcome  a 
difficulty,  if  he  will  summon  courage  to  make  a  vigorous  eff'ort ; 
that  he  can  choose  and   act  upon   the  right,  in  spite  of  strong 

*  My  information  on  this  subject  is  mainly  derived  from  my  sister,  Mary 
Carpenter ;  than  whom  no  one  can  speak  with  a  greater  weight  of  authority. 


THE   LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         301 

temptation  to  do  wrong,  by  deiermiiiately  keeping  before  his  mind 
the  motives  and  sanctions  of  duty, — which  constitutes  the  most 
effectual  means  of  calling  fordi  that  power  of  "self-control," 
which  the  most  enlightened  writers  of  antiquity,  and  the  most 
successful  of  modern  educators,  concur  in  regarding  as  the  most 
valuable  result  alike  of  moral  and  of  intellectual  discipline. — 
To  the  consistent  Automatist,  who  denies  the  existence  in  the 
Ego  of  any  self-determining  power,  and  who  puts  his  whole  trust 
in  the  motives  brought  to  bear  from  without,  it  seems  to  me 
that  the  word  try  can  really  have  no  more  meaning  than  the 
word  choice. 

2.  That  the  self-consciousness  of  freedom  involved  in  the 
very  idea  of  choice  is  not  illusory,  is  further  indicated  by  the  uni- 
versal existence  of  a  moral  consciousness  absolutely  inconsistent 
with  the  notion  of  automatism.  The  conception  of  freedom,  as 
Mr.  Sidgwick  remarks  {op.  cit.  p.  50),  "is,  so  to  say,  the  pivot 
"upon  which  our  moral  sentiments  naturally  play."  Our  feelings 
of  approval  and  disapproval  in  regard  to  human  conduct,  are  of 
an  order  quite  different  from  those  we  entertain  in  regard  to  any 
kind  of  mechanical  action.  I  have  no  moral  approbation  for  a 
chronometer  whose  perfect  time-keeping  gives  the  true  place  of 
a  ship  at  sea,  or  the  true  longitude  of  a  transit-station  ;  such  as  I 
have  for  the  maker  of  that  chronometer,  whom  I  know  to  have 
put  forth  his  utmost  skill  in  its  construction,  careless  of  advantage 
to  himself,  but  thinking  only  of  the  human  lives  he  helps  to  save, 
or  the  accuracy  of  the  scientific  researches  in  which  he  thus  bears 
an  honourable  part.  Nor  have  I  any  moral  disapproval  for  a 
watch  whose  stopping  or  bad-going  causes  me  to  incur  serious 
detriment  by  missing  a  railway-train ;  such  as  I  have  for  the  work- 
man whose  carelessness  in  putting  that  watch  together  proves  to 
be  the  occasion  of  my  misfortune.  Yet,  upon  the  automatist 
theory,  neither  of  these  human  agents  could  help  doing  exactly 
what  he  did ;  and  I  am  therefore  alike  unreasonable  in  blaming 
the  man  who  has  caused  me  injury,  and  in  commending  the  man 
who  has  done  good  service.  So,  again,  our  feelings,  in  regard 
to  the  actions  of  brutes,  or  of  human  beings  whose  brute  con- 
dition seems  to  justify  us  in  considering  them  as  Automata,  are 


302  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

very  different  from  those  with  which  we  view  the  like  actions  of 
men  whom  we  regard  as  possessing  a  self-regulating  power.*  We 
should  never  think  of  blaming  a  wasp  for  stinging  us,  or  a  poisonous 
snake  for  biting  us  ;  neither  do  we  esteem  a  bee  deserving  of  credit 
for  its  industry  in  laying  up  honey  for  our  use,  or  deem  the  silk- 
worai  an  object  of  gratitude  for  the  toilsome  ingenuity  with  which 
it  spins  the  cocoon  whose  thread  furnishes  the  material  of  our 
most  beautiful  fabrics  ; — each  of  these  creatures  doing  that  which 
it  is  its  "nature"  to  do,  and  having  no  power  to  do  otherwise. 
We  make  the  like  allowance  for  young  children,  or  even  for 
"  children  of  a  larger  growth,"  in  whom  the  moral  sense  and 
the  power  of  self-control  have  not  yet  been  developed  ;  as  we  do 
also  for  the  insane,  who  are  either  deficient  in  the  power  of 
self-direction,  or  whose  will  is  overborne  by  some  uncontroll- 
able impulse.  We  hold  them  "  not  responsible  "  for  any  injury 
they  may  do  us  ;  and  justify  the  discipline  to  which  we  subject 
them,  as  alike  needful  for  the  welfare  of  society  at  large,  and  likely 
to  be  beneficial  to  themselves.  But  we  view  in  a  very  different 
light  the  acts  of  simple  recklessness,  still  more  those  of  deliberate 
selfishness,  and  yet  more  again  those  of  treacherous  and  unmanly 
brutality,  that  are  committed  by  men  who  knowing  better  have 
preferred  the  worse ;  acting  on  the  suggestions  of  slothful  folly,  or 
the  cool  calculations  of  self-interest,  or  the  fierce  impulses  of 
malignant  passion,  without  regard  to  the  sufferings  which  their 
misdeeds  may  bring  upon  others. 

When,  for  example,  a  man  throws  down  stones  from  a  house- 
top without  looking  to  see  who  is  below,  or  fires  a  pistol  in  a 
crowded  thoroughfare  without  care  as  to  who  may  be  in  the  line 
of  the  bullet,  not  only  does  the  law  regard  him  as  fully  "  respon- 
sible "  for  any  injury  that  may  be  caused  by  his  act  (holding  him 
guilty  of  murder  if   death    ensues),   but    public  feeling    sanctions 

*  See  the  "  Psychologic  Naturelle  "  of  M.  Prosper  Despine  ;  in  which  the 
mental  mechanism  of  crime  is  studied  from  nature,  under  the  guidance  of  views 
as  to  the  relation  betv/cen  the  automatism  of  Man's  nature  and  the  controlling 
power  of  the  will,  which  essentially  correspond  with  those  set  forth  in  the 
present  work.  A  large  proportion  of  criminal  offenders,  according  to  M. 
Despine,  are  so  devoid  of  moral  sense,  that  they  must  be  accounted  "moral 
jdiots  ;  "  and  in  many  more,  that  sense  is  temporarily  overborne  by  a  passion 
which  the  subject  of  it  has  never  been  trained  to  control. 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.        303 

the  infliction  of  severe  punishment,  although  he  had  not  intended 
to  do  harm  to  any  one ;  and  this  because  he  could  have  helped 
doing  what  he  did,  and  must  have  wilfully  shut  his  eyes  to  its 
possible  or  probable  consequences. — So,  when  a  man  deliberately 
plans  to  blow  up  a  house  or  a  ship,  at  the  sacrifice  of  scores  or 
(it  may  be)  of  hundreds  of  human  lives,  for  the  sake  of  gaining 
a  few  scores  or  hundreds  of  pounds  by  a  fraudulent  policy  of 
insurance,  the  primary  instincts  of  humanity  would  protest 
against  his  being  punished  with  a  view  merely  to  the  prevention 
of  similar  crimes  and  to  his  own  reformation,  and  every  one 
feels  that  he  "richly  deserves"  the  heaviest  penalty  of  the  law.* 
And  we  have  no  terms  of  reprobation  strong  enough  for  the 
cowardly  ferocity  of  a  Nana  Sahib  ;  who  gratified  his  hatred  of 
the  British  to  whom  he  had  previously  professed  to  be  a  friend, 
by  the  brutal  murder  of  the  defenceless  women  and  children 
who  had  trusted  themselves  to  his  protection;  and  who,  if  he 
had  been  taken  "red-hand,"  would  assuredly  have  been  deemed 
by  the  world  in  general  a  fitting  object  of  "retributive  justice." 

But,  as  has  been  pithily  remarked,  if  vice  and  virtue  are  pro- 
ducts like  sugar  and  vitriol,  the  laws  of  whose  production  science 
may  be  expected  to  discover,  "it  will  be  as  irrational  to  feel  indigna- 
"  tion  at  base  and  cowardly  actions,  as  it  would  be  to  feel  angry 
"about  the  chemical  affinities."  And  the  like  may  be  said  of  the 
irrationality,  on  the  automatist  hypothesis,  of  the  moral  approval 
we  feel  for  acts  of  noble  self-sacrifice ; — such  as  that  of  the  steers- 
man of  the  burning  ship,  who  held  his  place  at  the  wheel,  so  as  to 
run  the  ship  towards  shore,  though  the  fire  beneath  was  roasting 
the  soles  of  his  feet  ; — or  that  of  the  handful  of  brave  men  who 
blew  open  the  gate  of  Delhi,  the  stronghold  of  the  Indian  mutineers, 
in  the  face  of  what  seemed  certain  annihilation  ; — or  that  of  the  six 
hundred  soldiers  who  kept  their  stations  on  the  deck  of  the  sinking 
Birkenhead,  while  the  women  and  children  were  being  lowered 
into  the  boats.  Could  we  entertain  that  feeling,  if  we  really 
believed  the  men  whose  deeds  and  sufferings  we  hold  among  our 
most  precious  memories,  to  be  nothing  more  than  well-regulated 

*  I  here  allude  not  merely  to  the  recent  Bremerhaven  explosion,  but  to  a 
case  in  which  the  blowing  up  of  a  pile  of  building  that  contained  two  hundred 
people,  was  attempted  in  Glasgow,  fortunately  without  success,  when  I  was 
studying  in  Edinburgh  about  forty  years  since. 


304  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

machines  ?  One  of  the  most  admirable  sayings  of  Fred.  W. 
Robertson  has  always  seemed  to  me  to  be  his  reply  to  the 
remonstrance  addressed  to  him  by  one  of  his  churchwardens,  as 
to  the  displeasing  effect  of  the  outspokenness  of  his  preaching 
upon  some  of  the  principal  supporters  of  his  church.  "  I  don't 
"  care,"  he  said  ;  meaning,  of  course,  "  I  must  preach  as  my  own 
"sense  of  duty  prompts  me." — "You  know  what  'don't  care' 
"  came  to?  "  said  the  remonstrator. — "  Yes,  sir," replied  Robertson, 
"  it  came  to  Calvary."  That  the  sympathetic  thrill  which  every 
true  Christian  disciple  must  feel  when  he  realizes  the  full  force  of 
these  pregnant  words,  is  the  illusion  of  an  unenlightened  nature, 
which  the  revelations  of  science  will  dispel  by  proving  their  utterer 
to  have  been  an  automaton  whose  choice  between  duty  and  self- 
interest  was  determined  solely  by  "  circumstances,"  may  be  the 
conclusion  of  the  unimpassioned  closet-philosopher;  but  the  ex- 
perience of  all  who,  like  Robertson,  make  the  sublimest  of  all  acts 
of  self-sacrifice  the  rule  and  guide  of  their  own  lives,  recognizes  in 
such  sacrifice  a  moral  power  far  transcending  in  probative  value 
any  logical  deduction  of  the  intellect. 

3.  I  find  the  embodiment  of  that  moral  consciousness  in  all 
language  and  literature  ;  for  whatever  may  be  the  judgment  of 
ethical  philosophers  as  to  the  nature  and  source  of  the  fundamental 
distinction  between  right  and  wrong,  and  whatever  may  be  the 
direction  given  to  that  notion  by  the  No/aos  by  which  the  judgment 
of  each  individual  is  shaped  as  to  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong, 
the  sense  in  which  these  terms  are  universally  accepted  is 
based  on  the  idea  of  a  ^-^//-determining  capability  to  do  the  right 
and  to  ai'oid  the  wrong.*     This  seems  to  me  perfectly  clear,  when 

*  It  is  not  a  little  instructive  to  find  the  moral  intuitions  of  men  like 
Professor  Clifford  rising  up  to  assert  themselves  against  their  philosophy.  In 
his  lecture  on  "Right  and  Wrong"  (^Fortnightly  Review,  December,  1875), 
it  is  distinctly  affirmed  not  only  that  there  is  a  moral  sense  or  conscience, 
which  is  "the  whole  aggregate  of  our  feelings  about  right  or  wrong,  regarded 
"  as  tending  to  make  us  do  the  right  actions  and  avoid  the  wrong  ones,"  but, 
that  there  are  feelings  of  moral  approval  and  disapproval  which  imply  "  choice  ;  " 
that  "  a  particular  motive  is  made  to  prevail  by  the  fixing  the  attention  upon 
"  that  class  of  remembered  things  which  calls  up  the  motive,"  and  that  in  so 
far  as  this  act  of  directing  the  attention  is  voluntary,  "I  am  responsible  because 
"I  made  the  choice  ;"  and  that  "within  certain  limits  I  am  responsible  for 
"  what  I  am  now,  because  within  certain  limits  I  have  made  myself."     In  all 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         305 

we  compare  this  acceptation  with  the  sense  we  attach  to  the  very 
same  words  when  appUed  (figuratively)  to  a  piece  of  pure  mechan- 
ism. If  I  say  that  my  watch  goes  "  right,"  I  do  not  assign  to  il 
any  moral  credit,  but  merely  mean  that  it  keeps  time  well.  And 
if  I  say  that  it  goes  "  wrong,"  I  do  not  speak  of  it  as  an  object  of 
blame,  but  merely  mean  that  it  wants  regulating. 

If  the  "  wrong  "  movement  of  the  self-acting  points  of  a  railway 
gives  such  a  direction  to  the  train  which  passes  over  them  as 
causes  a  terrible  sacrifice  of  life,  we  do  not  imply  by  our  use  of 
the  word  the  moral  criminality  with  which  we  charge  a  pointsman 
whose  drunken  carelessness  has  brought  about  a  similar  calamity. 
The  machine  could  not  help  acting  as  it  did;  we  assume  that  the 
pointsman  could.  If  the  machine  proves  to  have  been  ill-con- 
structed, or  to  have  got  out  of  order  by  neglect,  we  blame  the  man 
whom  we  believe  to  have  been  in  fault ;  but  if  its  working  was 
deranged  by  a  snow-storm  of  unprecedented  violence,  we  cannot 
say  that  any  one  is  chargeable  with  moral  "  wrong."  So,  if  the 
pointsman  can  excuse  himself  by  showing  that  he  had  been  on  duty 
for  eight-and-forty  hours  continuously,  and  did  not  know  what  he 
was  about,  we  shift  the  blame  on  the  directors  who  wrongly  over- 
taxed his  brain  ;  whilst,  if  it  turns  out  that  his  inattention  was  due, 
neither  to  drunkenness  nor  to  over-fatigue,  but  to  sudden  illness, 
we  cannot  say  that  any  one  was  in  fault.  But,  on  the  automatist 
theory,  the  pointsman  could  no  more  help  getting  drunk,  than, 
when  drunk,  he  could  help  neglecting  his  work  ;  and  the  railway- 
directors  could  no  more  help  keeping  the  pointsman  on  duty  for 
forty-eight  hours,  than  he  could  help  the  bewilderment  which  was 
caused  by  this  overstrain  of  his  power.  And,  neither  the  drunken 
pointsman  nor  the  reckless  directors  were  any  more  morally 
responsible  for  the  loss  of  life,  in  the  one  case,  than  were  the  self- 
acting  points  in  the  other:  each  being  a  machine  whose  movements 
were  determined  by  the  law  of  its  construction  and  the  conditions 
in  which  it  was  placed  ;  and  the  term  "wrong,"  as  applied  to  the 
action  of  the  man,  having  no  other  meaning  than  it  has  when 

this  he  seems  to  me  implicitly  to  recognize  that  direction  of  bodily  action  by  the 
mind  of  the  Ego,  which  in  his  previous  lecture  he  distinctly  denied  {.ante,  p.  290) ; 
and,  whilst  still  upholding  the  principle  of  uniformity  of  sequence,  to  surrender 
all  that  essentially  constitutes  automatism. 


3o6  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

applied  to  the  working  of  the  self-acting  points. — The  moral  con- 
sciousness of  mankind  protests  against  such  an  identification. 

So,  again,  I  am  unable  to  attach  any  definite  import  to  such 

words  as  eyKpareta,  crwippocrvvr],  continentia,  ox  te/npet'anda, — to  see 

any  meaning  in  the  ancient  proverb  that  "  he  that  is  slow  to  anger 

"  is  better  than  the  mighty,  and  he  that  ruleth  his  spirit  than  he 

"that  taketh  a  city," — or  to  feel  any  admiration  for  the  hero  who 

"  has  gained  that  greatest  of  all  victories,  the  victory  over  himself," 

if  the  course  of  action  results  from  no  other  agency  than  either 

physical  or  mental  automatism,  and  no  independent  power  be  put 

forth  by  the  Ego  in  determining  it.     And  if  I  felt  obliged  to  accept 

that  doctrine  as  scientific  truth,  I  should  look  to  its  honest  and 

consistent  application  to  the  training  of  the  young  as  the  greatest 

of  social  calamities.     For  I  can  imagine  nothing  more  paralyzing 

to  every  virtuous  effort,  more  withering  to  every  noble  aspiration, 

than  that  our  children  should  be  brought  up  in  the  behef  that  their 

characters   are    entirely   formed  for  them    by    "  heredity "   and 

"  environments  ; "    that   they  tnust  do  whatever  their  respective 

characters  impel  them  to  do ;  that  they  have  no  other  power  of 

resisting  temptations  to  evil,  than  such  as  may  spontaneously  arise 

from  the  knowledge  they  have  acquired  of  what  they  ought  or 

ought  not  to  do  ;  that  if  this  motive  proves  too  weak,  they  can  do 

nothing  of  themselves  to  intensify  and  strengthen  it ;  that  the  notion 

of  "summoning  their  resolution,"  or  "bracing  themselves  for  the 

conflict,"  is  altogether  a  delusion ;    that,  in  fine,  they  are  in  the 

•position  of  a  man  who  is  floating  down-stream  in  a  boat  without 

oars,  towards  a  dangerous  cataract,  and  can  only  be  rescued  by 

the  interposition  of  some  Deus  ex  mac/iind. — How  the  perception 

of  this,  as  the  logical  outcome  of  the  doctrine  of  automatism, 

weighed  "  like  an  incubus  "  upon  the  spirit  of  John  Stuart  Mill, 

when  he  first  fully  awoke  to  it,  he  has  himself  told  us  in  his 

Autobiography  (p.  169).   "  I  felt,"  he  says,  "  as  if  I  was  scientifically 

"  proved  to  be  the  helpless  slave  of  antecedent  circumstances  ;  as 

"if  my  character  and  that  of  all  others  had  been  formed  for  us  by 

"  agencies  beyond  our  control,  and  was  wholly  out  of  our  own 

"  power."     And  it  is  not  a  little  curious  that,  while  continumg  to 

advocate  as  scientific  truth  the  determination  of  human  conduct 

by  the  formed  character  of  each  individual,  and  while  excluding 


THE   LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         307 

any  interference,  at  the  tinal  stage,  with  the  strict  sequence  of 
cause  and  effect,  he  impUcitly  admitted  the  independence  or 
unconditioned  agency  of  the  Ego  in  the  formation  of  his  character. 
"  I  saw,"  he  says,  "  that  though  our  character  is  formed  bycircum- 
"  stances,  our  own  desire  can  do  much  to  shape  those  circum- 
"  stances ;  and  that  what  is  really  inspiriting  and  ennobling  in  the 
"  doctrine  of  free-will,  is  the  conviction  that  ive  have  real ponier  over 
"  the  formation  of  our  own  character ;  that  our  will,  by  influencing 
"  some  of  our  circumstances,  can  modify  our  future  habits  and 
"capacities  of  willing."  I  can  attach  no  other  meaning  to  this 
remarkable  passage  (the  teaching  of  which  is  more  fully  developed 
in  chap.  i.  of  Book  VI.  of  the  "System  of  Logic"),  than  that  it 
recognizes  a  factor  in  the  formation  of  our  characters,  which  is 
something  else  than  *' heredity //z/x  environments."  For  I  can 
scarcely  suppose  J.  S.  Mill  not  to  have  seen  that  if  a  man's  desires 
are  themselves  the  results  of  antecedent  "  circumstances,"  the 
incubus  of  hopeless  slavery  to  those  circumstances  can  no  more 
be  removed  by  any  desires  for  self-improvement  which  ex  hypothesi 
arise  out  of  them,  than  a  weight  which  bears  down  on  a  man's 
shoulders  can  be  lifted  off  by  its  own  pressure.  And  any  one  who 
reads  in  De  Quincey's  "Confessions"  the  graphic  narrative  of  his 
miserable  experiences  from  the  abuse  of  opium,  will  see  how 
ineffectual  are  the  strongest  desires,  without  the  will  to  carry  them 
into  effect. 

4.  It  may  be  confidently  stated  as  a  result  of  universal  ex- 
perience, that  our  "capacity  of  willing,"  that  is,  of  giving  a 
preponderance  to  the  motive  on  which  we  elect  to  act,  depends, 
first,  upon  our  conviction  that  we  really  have  such  a  self-deter- 
mining power,  and,  secondly,  upon  our  habitual  exercise  of  it. 
The  case,  which  is  unfortunately  but  too  common,  of  a  man  who 
habitually  gives  way  to  the  desire  for  alcoholic  excitement,  and 
is  ruining  himself  and  his  family  by  his  self-abandonment,  will 
bring  into  distinct  view  the  practical  bearing  of  the  antagonistic 
doctrines. 

The  automatism  of  his  nature  (purely  physical  so  far  as  the 
bodily  craving  for  alcohol  is  concerned,  but  including,  in  most 
cases,  some  play  of  social  instincts)  furnishes  an  aggregate  of 
14 


3o8  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

powerful  attractions  to  the  present  gratification.  On  the  other 
side  is  an  aggregate  of  moral  deterrents,  which,  when  the  atten- 
tion is  fixed  upon  them  in  the  absence  of  the  attractive  object, 
have  a  decided  preponderance,  so  far  as  the  desires  are  concerned. 
The  slave  of  intemperance  is  often  ready  to  cry  out,  "  O  wretched 
"man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this 
"  death  ?  " — and  he  proves  his  sincerity  by  his  readiness  to  take 
every  indirect  precaution  that  does  not  interfere  with  his  personal 
liberty.  But  when  the  temptation  recurs,  the  force  of  the  attrac- 
tion is  intensified  by  its  actual  presence ;  the  direct  sensory 
presentation  makes  a  more  vivid  impression  than  the  ideal  repre- 
sentation of  the  deterrent  motives ;  and  the  balance,  which 
previously  turned  against  the  indulgence,  now  preponderates  in 
favour  of  it.  What,  then,  is  it  within  the  power  of  the  Ego  to 
do?  On  the  automatist  theory,  nothitig.  For  not  only  is  he 
unable  to  call  to  his  aid  any  motive  which  does  not  spontaneously 
arise,  but  he  cannot  make  any  alteration  in  the  relative  strength 
of  the  motives  which  are  actually  present  to  his  consciousness. 
He  says,  to  himself  and  to  others,  "  I  could  not  help  yielding ; " 
and  automatism  sanctions  the  plea.  Society  may  be  justified  in 
imposing  on  him  either  restraint  or  punishment,  alike  for  its  own 
security  and  for  his  welfare ;  but  no  consistent  automatist  can 
regard  him  as  an  object  of  the  ?noral  reprobation  which  we  in- 
stinctively feel  for  the  self-degraded  sot ;  and  experience  shows 
that  the  system  of  external  repression  almost  invariably  loses  its 
potency  as  a  deterrent,  as  soon  as  the  restraining  influence  is 
withdrawn. 

Now,  although  I  hold  it  beyond  question  that  a  state  may  be 
induced  by  habitual  alcoholic  indulgence,  in  which  the  unhappy 
subject  of  it  loses  all  power  of  resistance,  I  affirm  it  to  be 
"  the  normal  experience  of  healthy  men,"  that  the  ordinary 
toper  has  such  a  power  in  the  earlier  stages  of  his  decadence, 
and  that  he  is  justly  held  culpable  for  not  exerting  it.  This  power 
is  exercised  in  the  determinate  fixation  of  the  Ego's  attention  on 
the  deterrent  motives  which  he  knows  oitght  to  prevail,  and  in  the 
determinate  withdrawal  of  his  mental  vision  from  the  attraction 
which  he  knows  ought  not  to  prevail ;  so  that  the  intensification 
of  the  former,  and  the  weakening  of  the  latter  give  to  the  claims 


THE   LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         309 

of  duty  a  preponderating  force  in  the  regulation  of  the  conduct. 
The  deliverance  of  the  universal  experience  of  mankind  upon 
this  point,  seems  to  me  to  take  a  rank  equal  to  that  of  our 
common-sense  decision  in  regard  to  the  reality  of  an  external 
world.  And  it  is  confirmed  by  the  superior  efficacy  of  our 
appeal  to  the  better  nature  of  the  individual  we  are  endeavouring 
to  rescue,  when  this  is  backed  by  the  assurance  that  he  has  the 
power  of  escape  from  the  enslavement  which  he  feels  to  be 
gradually  closing  in  upon  him,  if  he  will  but  resolutely  exert  it. 
We  say  to  him  : — "  You  can  conquer,  if  you  will.  And  it  rests 
"  with  yourself  to  will.  You  have  every  possible  motive  of  the 
"  highest  kind  on  the  one  side,  and  nothing  but  the  attraction  of 
"  a  selfish  indulgence  on  the  other.  Be  a  man,  and  not  a  beast. 
"  Exert  the  power  which  you  know  and  feel  yourself  to  possess ; 
"  keep  your  thoughts  and  affections  steadily  fixed  upon  the  right ; 
"  avoid  the  first  step  in  the  downward  path ;  and  when  the 
"moment  of  unexpected  temptation  comes,  make  a  vigorous 
"  effort,  determine  to  succeed,  and  you  will  come  off  victorious. 
"  And  when  you  have  once  done  so,  you  will  feel  a  more  assured 
"  conviction  that  you  can  do  so  again  ;  each  victory  will  make  the 
"next  easier  to  you;  and,  by  steady  perseverance,  you  will  re- 
"  acquire  that  power  of  self  direction  which  will  enable  you  to 
"keep  straight  without  an  effort." — I  appeal  to  the  experience  of 
such  as  have  had  to  deal  with  these  sad  cases,  whether  this  is  not 
the  more  effective  method. 

Whatever  allowances  Society  may  be  ready  to  make  for  indi- 
vidual cases — such,  for  instance,  as  that  of  Hartley  Coleridge, 
who  was  the  victim  of  a  strong  hereditary  predisposition,  accom- 
panied by  a  constitutional  weakness  of  will, — it  recognizes  as  a 
fixed  conviction,  and  consistently  acts  upon  that  conviction,  that 
the  incipient  drunkard  has  a  power  over  himself;  that  he  can  not 
only  abstain  if  he  chooses,  but  that  he  ca?i  choose  to  abstain  because 
he  knows  that  he  oir^ht  to  do  so  ;  and  that  when,  by  voluntarily 
giving  way  to  his  propensity,  he  brings  himself  into  a  condition 
in  which  he  is  no  more  responsible  for  his  actions  than  a  lunatic, 
he  is  not  thereby  exempted  from  the  penalty  that  may  attach  to 
them,  but  must  be  held  responsible  for  having  knowingly  and 
deliberately  brought  himself  into  the  condition  of  irresponsibility. 


3IO  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

On  the  automatist  theory,  a  drunkard  who  deserts  a  comfortable 
home  for  the  tap-room  (I  make  large  allowance  for  those  who 
have  //^comfortable  homes),  who  neglects  an  attached  wife  and 
loving  children  for  the  society  of  profligates,  and  who,  with  ample 
means  of  higher  enjoyment,  surrenders  himself  without  a  struggle 
to  the  allurement  of  sensual  pleasure,  and  at  last  renders  himself 
amenable  to  the  law  by  fatal  outrage  on  the  patient  wife  who  has 
long  borne  with  his  brutality,  is  no  more  a  subject  of  moral  repro- 
bation than  poor  Hartley  Coleridge ;  who,  when  he  strayed  from 
the  loving  care  of  his  friends,  would  be  found  in  the  parlour  of 
some  rural  public-house,  delighting  the  rustics  with  his  wonderfid 
stories,  and  indulging  to  his  heart's  content  in  the  unlimited  beer 
which  the  publican  was  only  too  glad  to  allow  him.  When,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  subject  of  a  strong  hereditary  alcoholic  craving 
maintains  a  daily  conflict  with  his  tempter,  uses  every  means  he 
can  think  of  to  avoid  or  weaken  its  seductions,  puts  forth  all  his 
energy  in  resisting  them,  and,  through  occasional  failures,  comes 
off  on  the  whole  victorious,  the  consistent  automatist  can  have 
no  other  approbation  to  bestow  upon  him,  than  that  which  he 
would  accord  to  a  self-governing  steam-engine  or  a  compensation- 
balance  watch. 

5.  Further,  the  existence  of  the  ideas  cuiTently  attached  to 
the  words  duty  and  responsibility,  is  an  evidence  of  the  acceptance 
by  Mankind  at  large,  of  the  belief  that  every  normally-constituted 
individual  has  a  power  of  choice  and  se/f-reguIation,~^^ oughi" 
necessarily  implying  "can."  And  this  evidence  is  not  invalidated 
by  the  discrepancy  which  must  always  exist  between  legal  and 
moral  responsibility.  For  the  law,  looking  mainly  to  the  pro- 
tection of  society,  necessarily  deals  rather  with  acts  than  with 
motives ;  and  punishments  must  often  be  inflicted  with  a  de- 
terrent view,  which  we  may  not  regard  the  criminal  as  having 
morally  deserved. 

Thus,  in  the  rescue  of  the  Fenian  conspirators  at  Manchester, 
the  men  who  made  the  attack  on  the  prison-van  which  involved 
the  death  of  police-sergeant  Brett,  were  doubtless  animated  by 
what  they  deemed  noble  and  patriotic  motives.  They  had  no 
ill-will  towards  Brett  individually;  but,  as  the  Judge  laid  it  down 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.         311 

in  his  charge  to  the  Grand  Jury,  they  were  all  guilty  of  murder, 
as  being  concerned  in  the  common  design  of  using  dangerous 
violence  towards  any  police  who  might  resist  their  efforts  in 
procuring  the  rescue  of  the  prisoners.  The  man  Allen,  who 
fired  the  fatal  shot,  seems  to  have  done  so  in  the  full  knowledge 
that  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  life  would  be  the  consequence : — 
'•  I  will  free  you,  Colonel,"  he  is  reported  to  have  said,  "  if  I  swing 
"  for  it."  If  the  same  thing  had  been  done  to  rescue  an  escaped 
slave,  or  to  retake  a  ship  captured  by  pirates  or  mutineers,  or 
by  an  enemy  in  war,  it  would  have  been  accounted  a  glorious 
act  of  heroism.  But  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  the  in- 
fliction of  capital  punishment  on  the  ringleaders  in  this  outrage 
was  necessary  to  maintain  tlie  supremacy  of  law  and  order. — 
The  same  may  be  said  of  the  execution  of  Orsini  for  his  attempt 
on  the  life  of  the  Emperor  Louis  Napoleon.  Orsini,  it  is  now 
well  known,  was  simply  the  instrument  of  the  Carbonari  Society 
to  which  the  Emperor  had  belonged  in  the  earlier  part  of  his 
life,  for  inflicting  the  condign  punishment  decreed  by  its  laws, 
as  the  penalty  incurred  by  any  of  its  members  who  failed  to 
do  everything  in  his  power  for  the  liberation  of  Italy.  The 
Emperor,  having  been  formally  tried  and  condemned  for  his 
inaction,  was  decreed  worthy  of  death,  according  to  the  oath 
which  he  had  himself  taken  ;  and  lots  were  cast  to  select  the 
individual  who  should  be  charged  with  the  execution  of  the 
sentence.  The  lot  fell  upon  Orsini,  who  was  summoned  from 
Birmingham  for  the  purpose;  and  the  summons  was  one  (as 
he  hinted  to  his  friends  there)  which  he  felt  that  he  must  obey, 
though  at  the  risk  of  iiis  own  life.  It  is  clear  that  the  Emperor 
felt  no  personal  ill-will  against  him,  and  regarded  his  execution 
as  a  political  necessity;  the  publication  in  the  Moniteur  of  the 
will  in  which  Orsini  bequeathed  to  the  Emperor  the  liberation  of 
Italy  and  the  charge  of  his  children,  being  understood  at  the  time 
by  well-informed  politicians  as  an  acceptance,  on  the  Emperor's 
part,  of  both  legacies,  of  which  acceptance  the  liberation  of  Italy 
has  been  the  direct  or  indirect  consequence.  It  is  difficult  to 
see  in  what  respect  Orsini's  act  of  self-sacrifice,  under  what  we 
may  deem  a  mistaken  sense  of  duty,  was  less  noble  than  that 
of  other  patriots  whom  the  world  holds  in  honour 


312  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

Omniscience  alone  can  rightly  assign  the  moral  responsibility 
of  each  individual  for  his  several  acts ;  the  degree  of  that  respon- 
sibility being  determined  (as  in  the  cases  cited  under  the  last 
head)  by  the  proportion  which  his  will  or  self-regulating  power 
bears  to  the  strength  of  the  dominant  motives  by  which  he  is 
urged  in  each  case.  This  ratio,  as  already  shown,  will  be  a 
"  general  resultant "  of  the  whole  previous  course  of  life ;  every 
exercise  of  the  will  increasing  its  vigour  and  controlling  efficiency, 
while  every  weak  concession  to  a  dominant  passion  tends  to  make 
the  individual  its  slave.  And  thus  a  man  (or  woman)  may  come 
at  last  so  far  to  have  lost  the  power  of  self-conlrol,  as  to  be  unable 
to  resist  a  temptation  to  what  is  known  to  be  wrong,  and  to  be 
therefore  morally  irresponsible  for  the  particular  act ;  but  such  an 
individual,  like  the  drunkard  in  the  commission  of  violence,  is 
responsible  for  his  irresponsibility,  because  he  has  wilfully  abnegated 
his  power  of  self-control,  by  habitually  yielding  to  temptations 
which  he  knows  that  he  ought  to  have  resisted. 

The  moral  judgments  which  tve  form  of  the  actions  of  other 
men,  are  necessarily  as  imperfect  as  our  predictions  of  their  con- 
duct ;  since  no  one  can  fully  estimate  the  relative  potency  of 
heredity  and  environments,  on  the  one  side,  and  of  the  sense  of 
duty  and  capacity  of  willing,  on  the  other  :  and  the  consciousness 
of  our  own  weakness  in  resisting  the  temptations  which  we  feel 
most  attractive  to  ourselves,  should  lead  us  to  make  large  allow- 
ance for  the  frailties  and  shortcomings  of  others.  There  are  too 
many,  who,  as  old  Butler  pithily  said — 

*'  Compound  for  sins  they  are  inclined  to, 
"  By  damning  those  they  have  no  mind  to." 

Kindly  allowance  for  the  offender  ("  considering  thyself,  lest  thou 
"  also  be  tempted  ")  is  perfectly  consistent  with  reprobation  of 
the  offence.  And  thus  the  "charity"  which  "  beareth  all  things, 
"  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things," 
is  in  strict  accordance  with  the  results  of  psychological  inquiry 
into  the  influences  which  form  the  character  and  determine  the 
relative  potency  of  motives. 

It  seems  to  me  (as  to  Mr.  Sidgwick,  op.  cit.,  p.  50)  quite 
clear  that  on  the  automatist  or  determinist  theory,  such  words  as 
"ought,"  "duty,"  "responsibility,"  have  to  be  used,  if  used  at 


THE   LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.        313 

all,  in  new  significations.  The  welfare  of  that  aggregate  of  auto- 
mata which  we  call  society,  may  require  that  every  individual 
automaton  shall  be  prevented  from  doing  what  is  injurious  to  it ; 
and  punishment  for  offences  actually  committed  may  be  reason- 
ably inflicted  as  a  deterrent  from  the  repetition  of  such  offences 
by  the  individual  or  by  others.  But  if  the  individual  has  ifi 
Imnsdf  no  power  eidier  to  do  the  right  or  to  avoid  the  wrong, 
and  if  the  potency  of  that  aggregate  of  feelings  about  actions  as 
being  "right  or  wrong"  which  is  termed  conscience,  entirely 
depends  upon  "  circumstances  "  over  which  he  neither  has,  nor 
ever  has  had  any  control,  I  fail  to  see  in  what  other  sense  he 
should  be  held  "responsible"  for  doing  what  he  knows  that 
he  "  ought  not"  to  have  done,  or  for  doing  what  he  knows  that  he 
"ought"  to  have  done,  than  a  steam-engine,  which  breaks  away 
from  its  "governor"  in  consequence  of  a  sudden  increase  of 
steam-pressure,  or  which  comes  to  a  stop  through  the  bursting 
of  its  steam-pipe,  can  be  accounted  responsible  for  the  damage 
thence  arising. 

The  idea  of  "  responsibility,"  on  the  other  hand,  which  is 
entertained  by  mankind  at  large,  rests  upon  the  assumption,  not 
only  that  each  Ego  has  a  conscience  which  recognizes  a  distinc- 
tion between  right  and  wrong,  and  which  (according  to  the  train- 
ing it  has  received)  decides  zvhat  is  right  and  what  is  wrong  in 
each  individual  case,  but  also  that  he  has  a  volitional  power 
which  enables  him  to  intensify  his  sense  of  "  duty  "  by  fixing  his 
attention  upon  it,  and  thus  gives  it  a  potency  in  determining  his 
conduct  which  it  might  not  have  otherwise  possessed.  That  this 
power  is  a  part  of  the  Ego's  "  formed  character,"  and  that  it  can 
only  be  exerted  within  certain  limits,  is  fully  admitted  on  the 
doctrine  I  advocate ;  but  the  responsibility  of  the  Ego  is  shifted 
backwards  to  the  share  he  has  had  in  the  formation  of  his  cha- 
racter and  in  the  determination  of  those  limits.  And  here,  again, 
the  results  of  scientific  investigation  are  in  complete  harmony 
with  the  precepts  of  the  greatest  of  all  religious  teachers.  For 
no  one  can  study  these  with  care,  without  perceiving  that  Jesus 
and  Paul  addressed  themselves  rather  to  the  formation  of  the 
character  than  to  the  laying  down  rules  for  conduct ;  that  they 
endeavoured   rather  to  cultivate   the  dispositions  which  should 


314  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

lead  to  right  action,  than  to  fix  rigid  lines  of  duty,  the  enforce- 
ment of  which  under  other  circumstances  might  be  not  only 
unsuitable  but  actually  mischievous  ;  and  that  they  not  only  most 
fully  recognized  the  power  of  each  individual  to  direct  the  habitual 
course  of  his  thoughts,  to  cherish  his  nobler  affections,  and  to 
repress  his  sensual  inclinations,  but  made  the  possession  of  that 
power  the  basis  of  the  entire  system  of  Christian  morality. 

That  system  has  been  found  to  harmonize  with  the  experience 
of  the  best  and  wisest  of  our  race ;  which  has  proved  its  capa- 
bility of  strengthening  every  virtuous  effort,  of  giving  force  to 
every  noble  aspiration,  of  aiding  the  resistance  to  the  allurements 
of  self-interest,  and  of  keeping  at  bay  the  stronger  temptations  of 
vicious  indulgence.  The  tendency  of  the  automatist  philosophy, 
on  the  other  hand,  which  represents  man  as  nothing  but  "a  part 
"  of  the  great  series  of  causes  and  effects,  which,  in  unbroken 
"continuity,  composes  that  which  is,  and  has  been,  and  shall  be 
"  — the  sum  of  existence,"  *  seems  to  me  to  be  no  less  certainly 
towards  the  discouragement  of  all  determinate  effort,  either  for 
individual  self-improvement,  or  for  the  general  welfare  of  the  race. 
For  though  it  fully  recognizes,  as  factors  in  human  action,  the 
most  elevated  as  well  as  the  most  degraded  classes  of  motives, 
and  gives  all  the  encouragement  to  the  culture  of  the  one  and  to 
the  repression  of  the  other  that  faith  in  the  uniformity  of  causa- 
tion can  afford,  yet  by  refusing  to  the  Ego  any  capability  of  /itm- 
self  modifying  the  potency  of  those  factors,  it  dries  up  the  source 
of  that  sense  of  independence  which  springs  from  the  conviction 
that  man's  "volition  counts  for  something  as  a  condition  in  the 
"course  of  events,"  and  leaves  him  a  mere  instrument  in  the 
hands  of  an  inexorable  fate. 

To  myself  it  seems  as  if  nothing  was  wanting  either  in  my 
own  self-consciousness,  or  in  what  I  know  of  the  conscious 
experiences  of  other  men,  to  establish  the  existence  of  the  "  self- 
"  determining  power "  for  which  I  contend.  I  cannot  conceive 
of  any  kind  of  evidence  of  its  existence  more  cogent  than  that 
which  I  already  possess.  And  feeling  assured  that  the  sources  of 
my  belief  in  it  lie  deep  down  in  the  nature  of  every  normally- 
constituted  human  being,  I  cannot  anticipate  the  time  when  that 

*  Prof.  Huxley  in  Fortnightly  Revi'.w,  Nov.,  1S74,  p.  577. 


THE  LIMITS   OF  HUMAN  AUTOMATISM.        315 

belief  will  be  eliminated  from  the  thought  of  mankind  ;  when  the 
words  "  ought,"  "  duty,"  "  responsibility,"  "  choice,"  "  self- 
control,"  and  the  like,  will  cease  to  have  the  meaning  we  at 
present  attach  to  them; — and  when  we  shall  really  treat  each 
other  as  automata  who  cannot  help  doing  whatever  our  "here- 
dity "  and  "  environments  "  necessitate. 


3i6  NATURE  AND   MAN. 


XI. 

THE  DEEP  SEA  AND  ITS  CONTENTS. 

^Nineteenth  Century,  April,  i8So.] 

When,  in  June  1871,  I  placed  before  Mr.  Goschen,  then  First 
Lord  of  the  Admiralty,  the  scheme  I  had  formed  for  a  Scientific 
Circumnavigation  Expedition,  I  stated  as  its  general  object  "  the 
"  extension  to  the  three  great  oceanic  areas — the  Atlantic,  the 
"  Indian  and  Southern,  and  the  Pacific— of  the  physical  and 
''  biological  exploration  of  the  Deep  Sea,  which  has  been  ten- 
"tatively  prosecuted  by  my  colleagues  and  myself,  during  a  few 
"  months  of  each  of  the  last  three  years,  on  the  eastern  margin  of 
"  the  North  Atlantic,  and  in  the  neighbouring  portion  of  the 
"  Mediterranean."  Those  researches  had  been  regarded  by  the 
scientific  public — not  of  this  country  only,  but  of  the  whole 
civilized  world — as  of  extraordinary  interest ;  not  only  for  the  new 
facts  that  they  had  brought  into  view  and  the  old  fallacies  which 
they  had  exploded,  but  for  the  new  ideas  they  had  introduced 
into  various  departments  of  scientific  thought.  And  I  felt  myself 
justified  in  expressing  the  confident  belief  '*  that  the  wider  exten- 
'  sion  and  systematic  prosecution  of  them  will  be  fruitful  in  such 
'a  rich  harvest  of  discovery  as  has  been  rarely  reaped  in  any 
'  scientific  inquiry." 

The  "  Challenger  Expedition,"  thus  originated,  was  fitted  out 
in  the  most  complete  manner,  everything  being  done  which  skill 
and  experience  could  suggest  to  make  it  a  complete  success.  A 
ship    was   selected   whose  size   and   construction   rendered  her 


THE   DEEP   SEA    AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  317 

peculiarly  suitable  for  the  work ;  she  was  placed  under  the  com- 
mand of  Captain  (now  Sir  George)  Nares,  than  whom  no  more 
highly  qualified  head  could  have  been  chosen.  In  the  work  of 
the  ship  he  had  the  zealous  co-operation  of  a  selected  staff  of 
naval  officers,  whilst  for  the  direction  of  the  scientific  work  the 
expedition  had  the  advantage  of  the  services  of  Professor  (now 
Sir)  Wyville  Thomson,  with  five  assistants,  each  of  whom  had 
already  shown  special  proficiency  in  the  particular  department 
committed  to  his  charge. 

The  expedition  left  Sheerness  on  the  7th  of  December,  1872, 
and  returned  to  Spithead  on  the  24th  of  May,  1876  ;  having 
altogether  traversed  a  distance  of  nearly  seventy  thousand  nautical 
miles  or  (nearly  four  times  the  earth's  equatorial  circumference), 
and  having,  at  intervals  as  nearly  uniform  as  possible,  established 
362  observing  stations  along  the  course  traversed.  This  course 
was,  for  various  reasons,  anything  but  a  direct  one.  '  In  the  first 
year  the  Atlantic  was  crossed  and  recrossed  three  times  each 
way;  and  a  diversion  was  made  from  Bermuda  to  Halifax,  and 
back  again,  for  the  special  purpose  of  examining  the  phenomena 
of  the  Gulf  Stream.  This  first  part  of  the  voyage  terminated  at 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  from  which  a  fresh  start  was  made  for 
Kerguelen's  Land,  on  which  Captain  Nares  was  directed  to  report 
in  regard  to  the  sites  most  suitable  for  the  observation  of  the 
approaching  transit  of  Venus.  Thence  the  Challenger  proceeded 
due  south  towards  the  antarctic  ice-barrier  :  and,  after  making  the 
desired  observations  along  its  margin,  she  proceeded  to  Mel- 
bourne, Sydney,  and  New  Zealand.  The  next  portion  of  her 
voyage  was  devoted  to  an  examination  of  the  western  part  of  the 
great  Pacific  area,  with  a  diversion  into  the  adjacent  part  of  the 
Malay  Archipelago ;  and  it  was  when  proceeding  almost  due 
north  from  New  Guinea  to  Japan  that  her  deepest  sounding  (the 
deepest  trusitvorthy  sounding  yet  made)  of  4,475  fathoms — 
26,850  feet,  or  more  than_/?7'(?  miles — was  obtained.  From  Japan 
her  course  was  shaped  almost  due  east,  kcejMng  near  the  parallel 
of  38°  north  as  far  as  the  meridian  of  the  Sandwich  Islands,  so 
as  to  traverse  about  two-thirds  of  the  North  Pacific ;  and  then, 
taking  a  southern  direction,  she  proceeded  first  to  that  group, 
and  thence  across  the  equator  to  Tahiti,   thus  making  a  north 


3i8  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

and  south  course  through  the  tropical  Pacific.  From  Tahiti  she 
proceeded  south-east  towards  Cape  Horn,  with  a  detour  to  Val- 
paraiso ;  and  after  passing  through  the  Straits  of  Magellan,  touch- 
ing at  the  Falkland  Islands,  and  putting  in  at  Monte  Video,  she 
proceeded  eastward  halfway  across  the  South  Atlantic,  to  com- 
plete the  east  and  west  section  partly  taken  in  the  first  year  of 
the  voyage  on  the  parallel  of  the  Cape.  Changing  her  course  to 
the  north,  she  ran  a  north  and  south  line  as  far  as  the  equator, 
in  the  meridian  of  Madeira ;  and  then,  turning  north-west,  and 
keeping  at  some  distance  from  the  African  coast,  got  into  the 
middle  line  of  the  North  Atlantic,  which  she  followed  past  the 
Azores  ;  after  which  she  bore  up  for  home. 

At  each  of  the  observing  stations  a  sounding  was  taken  for 
the  determination  of  the  exact  depth ;  the  bottom-temperature  was 
accurately  ascertained  ;  a  sample  of  bottom-water  was  obtained 
for  chemicai  and  physical  examination ;  and  a  sample  of  the 
bottom  itself  was  brought  up,  averaging  from  one  ounce  to  one 
pound  in  weight.  At  most  of  the  stations,  serial  temperatures 
also  were  taken  ;  i.e.  the  temperature  of  the  waters  at  several 
different  depths  between  the  surface  and  the  bottom  was  deter- 
mined, so  as  to  enable  "  sections  "  to  be  constructed,  giving  what 
may  be  called  the  thermal  stratification  of  the  entire  mass  of 
ocean-water  along  the  different  lines  traversed  during  the  voyage, 
and  samples  of  sea-water  were  also  obtained  from  different  depths. 
At  most  of  the  stations  a  fair  sample  of  the  bottom-fauna  was 
procured  by  means  of  the  dredge  or  trawl :  while  the  swimming 
animals  of  the  surface  and  of  intermediate  depths  were  captured 
by  the  use  of  a  "tow-net,"  adjusted  to  sweep  through  the  waters 
in  any  desired  plane.  And  while  the  direction  and  rate  of  any 
surface-current  were  everywhere  determined  by  methods  which 
the  skilful  navigator  can  now  use  wath  great  precision,  attempts 
were  made  to  determine  the  direction  and  rate  of  movement  of  the 
water  at  different  depths,  wherever  there  was  any  special  reason 
for  doing  so.  In  addition  to  all  this,  which  constituted  the 
proper  work  of  the  expedition,  meteorological  and  magnetic 
observations  were  also  regularly  taken  and  recorded. 

The  vast  mass  of  accurate  information,  and  of  materials  from 
which  accurate  information  may  be  obtained,  which  has  thus  been 


THE   DEEP  SEA    AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  319 

collected  in  regard  to  the  Physics  of  the  Ocean,  affords  a  body 
of  data  for  scientific  discussion  of  which,  when  it  shall  have  been 
fully  published,  advantage  will  doubtless  be  eagerly  taken  by  the 
various  inquirers  into  the  different  branches  of  this  subject  who 
are  at  present  anxiously  waiting  for  it.  And,  in  like  manner,  the 
enormous  collection  of  marine  animals  that  has  been  most  carefully 
made  along  the  whole  of  the  Challenger's  course,  and  at  various 
depths  from  the  surface  down  to  more  than  four  miles — the 
locality  and  depth  from  which  every  specimen  was  obtained 
having  been  accurately  recorded — attests  the  entire  success  of  the 
Biological  portion  of  the  Challenger's  work.  But  here,  again, 
however  great  the  amount  of  work  done,  much  more  remains  to 
do,  in  the  "  working  up  "  of  this  most  valuable  material.  It  has 
been  distributed  among  Naturalists  of  the  highest  competence  in 
their  respective  departments,  each  of  whom  will  report  separately 
upon  his  own  subject.  And  only  when  all  these  separate  reports 
shall  have  been  published,  which  cannot  be  for  some  years,  will  it 
be  possible  to  give  a  general  resume  of  the  zoological  results  of  the 
expedition.  But  in  the  study  of  the  bottom-deposits  more  progress 
has  been  made ;  and  Mr.  Murray — one  of  the  Challenger  scientific 
staff,  who  was  specially  charged  with  this  department  during  the 
voyage — has  already  arrived  at  some  results  of  such  remarkable 
interest  as  fully  to  justify  the  belief  I  had  expressed  to  Mr. 
Goschen,  "  that  the  key  to  the  interpretation  of  much  of  the  past 
"  history  of  our  globe  is  at  present  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea, 
"waiting  only  to  be  brought  up." 

I  have  been  so  often  asked,  "  What  has  the  Challenger  expedi- 
"  tion  done  for  science  ?  "  that,  notwithstanding  what  I  have  shown 
to  be  the  impossibility  of  at  present  giving  more  than  a  very 
inadequate  idea  of  the  results  of  its  work,  I  shall  now  endeavour 
briefly  to  show  what  light  these  results  have  thrown  on  a  few 
general  questions  oi  %xtdX  interest;  some  of  which  were  first  opened 
up  in  our  previous  deep-sea  explorations,  while  on  others  not 
apparently  related  to  it  the  Challenger  researches  have  been  found 
to  cast  an  unexpected  light. 

The  question  which  naturally  takes  the  first  place  in  order  is 
that  of  the  depth  and  configuration  of  the  Ocean  basins,  as  to  which 
little  had  been  previously  learned  with  certainty,  except  in  the 


320  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

case  of  the  North  Atlantic,  Avhich  had  been  carefully  sounded 
along  certain  lines  with  a  view  to  the  laying  of  telegraph  cables. 
The  first  systematic  survey  of  this  kind  brought  out  a  set  of  facts 
which  were  then  supposed  to  be  exceptional,  but  which  the  sound- 
ings of  the  Challenger,  taken  in  connection  with  those  of  the 
United  States  ship  Tuscarora  and  the  German  Gazelle,  have  shown 
to  be  general  ;  viz.  (i)  that  the  bottom  smks  very  gradually  from 
the  coast  of  Ireland,  westward,  for  a  hundred  miles  or  more ;  (2) 
that  then,  not  far  beyond  the  hundred-fathom  line,  it  falls  so 
rapidly  that  depths  of  from  1200  to  1500  fathoms  are  met 
with  at  only  a  short  distance  further  west;  (3)  that  after  a 
further  descent  to  a  depth  of  more  than  2000  fathoms,  the 
bottom  becomes  a  slightly  undulating  plain,  whose  gradients 
are  so  low  as  to  show  scarcely  any  perceptible  alteration  of 
depth  in  a  section  in  which  the  same  scales  are  used  for  vertical 
heights  and  horizontal  distances ;  *  and  (4)  that  on  the  American 
side  as  on  the  British  this  plain  is  bordered  by  a  very  steep  slope, 
leading  up  quickly  to  a  bottom  not  much  exceeding  100 
fathoms  in  depth,  which  shallows  gradually  to  the  coast-line  of 
America.  Nothing  seems  to  have  struck  the  Challenger  surveyors 
more  than  the  extraordinary  yfrt-Zz/i^ji-  (except  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  land)  of  that  depressed  portion  of  the  earth's  crust  which  forms 
the  floor  of  the  great  oceanic  area ;  the  result  of  one  day's 
sounding  enabling  a  tolerably  safe  guess  to  be  formed  as  to  the 
depth  to  be  encountered  on  the  following  day  ;  and  thus,  if  the 
bottom  of  the  mid-ocean  were  laid  dry,  an  observer  standing  on 
any  spot  of  it  would  find  himself  surrounded  by  a  plain  only  com- 
parable to  that  of  the  North  American  prairies  or  the  South 
American  pampas. 

Thus  our  notions  of  the  so-called  "  ocean  basins "  are  found 
to  require  considerable  modification ;  and  it  becomes  obvious 
that,  putting  aside  the  oceanic  islands  which  rise  from  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  as  mountain-peaks  and  ridges  rise  ficm  the  general 
surface  of  the  land,  the  proper  oceanic  area  is  a  portion  of  the 
crust  of  the  earth  which  is  depressed  with  tolerable  uniformity 
some  thousands  of  feet  below  the  land  area,  whilst  the  bands  of 

*  Sections  drawn  (as  usual)  with  a  vertical  scale  enormously  in  excess  of  the 
horizontal  altogether  misrepresent  the  real  character  of  the  oceanic  sea-bed. 


THE  DEEP   SEA    AND   ITS   CONTENTS.  321 

shallow  bottom  which  usually  border  the  existing  coast-lines  are 
to  be  regarded  as  submerged  portions  of  the  adjacent  land- 
platforms.  The  form  of  the  depressed  area  which  lodges  the 
water  of  the  deep  ocean  is  rather,  indeed,  to  be  likened  to  that  of 
a  flat  waiter  or  tea-tray,  surrounded  by  an  elevated  and  steeply 
sloping  rim,  than  to  that  of  the  basin  with  which  it  is  commonly 
compared.  And  it  further  becomes  obvious  that  the  real  border 
of  any  oceanic  area  may  be  very  different  from  the  ostensible  border 
formed  by  the  existing  coast-line. 

Of  this  difference  between  the  shallow  waters  covering  sub- 
merged land,  and  the  sea  that  fills  the  real  ocean  basins,  we  have 
nowhere  a  more  remarkable  example  than  that  which  is  presented 
to  us  in  the  seas  which  girdle  the  British  Islands.  These  are  all 
so  shallow  that  their  bed  is  undoubtedly  to  be  regarded  as  a 
continuation  of  the  European  continental  platform,  an  eleva- 
tion of  the  north-western  corner  of  which,  to  the  amount  of 
only  100  fathoms,  would  reunite  Great  Britain  to  Denmark, 
Holland,  Belgium,  and  France,  and  would  bring  it  into  con- 
tinuity with  Ireland,  the  Hebrides,  and  the  Shetland  and  Orkney 
Islands.  Not  only  would  the  whole  of  the  British  Channel  be 
laid  dry  by  such  an  elevation,  but  the  whole  of  the  North  Sea 
also,  with  the  exception  of  a  narrow  deeper  channel  that  lies 
outside  the  fiords  of  Norway.  Again,  the  coast-line  of  Ireland 
would  be  extended  seawards  to  about  100  miles  west  of  Galway, 
and  that  of  the  Western  Hebrides  to  beyond  St.  Kilda ;  but 
a  little  further  west,  the  sea-bed  shows  the  abrupt  depression 
already  spoken  of  as  marking  the  commencement  of  the  real 
Atlantic  area.  A  like  rapid  descent  has  been  traced  ontside  the 
hundred-fathom  line  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay  (a  considerable  part  of 
which  would  be  converted  into  dry  land  by  an  elevation  of  that 
amount),  and  along  the  western  coast  of  Spain  and  Portugal, 
where,  however,  it  takes  place  much  nearer  the  existing  land- 
border.  The  soundings  of  the  United  States  ship  Tuscarora  in 
the  North  Pacific  have  shown  that  a  like  condition  exists  along 
the  western  coast  of  North  America ;  a  submerged  portion  of  its 
continental  platform,  covered  by  comparatively  shallow  water, 
forming  a  belt  of  variable  breadth  outside  the  existing  coast-line, 
and  the  sea-bed  then  descending  so  rapidly  as  distinctly  to  mark 


322  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

the  real  border  of  the  vast  Pacific  depression.  And  as  similar 
features  present  themseves  elsewhere,  it  may  be  stated  as  a  general 
fact  that  the  great  continental  platfo7'ms  usually  rise  very  abruptly 
from  the  margins  of  the  real  oceanic  depressed  areas. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  depression  of  the  existing  land  of  northern 
Europe  to  the  same  or  even  half  that  amount  would  cause  very 
extensive  areas  of  what  is  now  dry  land  to  be  overflowed  by  sea ; 
the  higher  tracts  and  mountainous  regions  alone  remaining  as 
representatives  of  the  continental  platform  to  which  the  sub- 
merged portions  equally  belong.  This,  as  every  geologist  knows, 
has  been,  not  once  only,  but  many  times,  the  former  condition  of 
Europe ;  and  finds  a  singular  parallelism  in  the  present  condition 
of  that  great  continental  platform  of  which  the  peninsula  and 
islands  of  Malaya  are  the  most  elevated  portions.  For  the  Yellow 
Sea,  which  forms  the  existing  boundary  of  south-eastern  Asia,  is 
everywhere  so  shallow  that  an  elevation  of  loo  fathoms  would 
convert  it  into  land,  while  half  that  elevation  would  lay  dry 
many  of  the  channels  between  the  Malay  Islands,  so  as  to  bring 
them  into  continuity  not  only  with  each  other  but  with  the  continent 
of  Asia.  And  Mr.  Wallace's  admirable  researches  on  the  zoology 
of  this  region  have  shown  that  such  continuity  undoubtedly  existed 
at  no  remote  period,  its  mammalian  fauna  being  essentially  Asiatic 
On  the  other  hand,  a  like  elevation  would  bring  Papua  into  land- 
continuity  with  Australia ;  with  which,  in  like  manner,  the  intimacy 
of  its  zoological  relations  shows  it  to  have  been  in  former  connec- 
tion. The  Indo-Malay  province  is  separated  from  the  Papuo- 
Australian  province  by  a  strait  which,  though  narrow,  is  so  much 
deeper  than  the  channels  which  intervene  between  the  separate 
members  of  either  group  that  it  would  still  remain  as  a  fissure  of 
considerable  depth,  even  if  the  elevation  of  the  two  parts  of  the 
great  area  it  divides  were  sufficient  to  raise  most  of  each  into  dry 
land.  And  thus  we  may  view  the  whole  area  extending  from 
south-eastern  Asia  to  South  Australia  as  a  vast  land-platform  (partly 
submerged),  of  which  the  great  fissure  that  divides  it  into  two  dis- 
tinct zoological  provinces  may  be  considered  as  corresponding  with 
the  great  break  made  by  the  Mediterranean  in  the  continuity 
between  Europe  and  Africa,  and  that  made  by  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
and  the  Caribbean   Sea  in  the  continuity  between  North   and 


THE  DEEP  SEA    AND   ITS   CONTENTS.  3^3 

South  America.  There  is  generally  a  very  marked  contrast  in 
elevation  between  the  slightly  submerged  portions  of  this  land- 
platform  and  the  deep  sea-floors  in  its  neighbourhood,  the  descent 
from  the  former  to  the  latter  being  very  abrupt. 

Now  these  parts  remarkably  confirm  the  doctrine  long  since 
propounded  by  the  distinguished  American  geologist  Professor 
Dana,  when  reasoning  out  the  probable  succession  of  events 
during  the  original  consolidation  of  the  earth's  crust,  and  its  sub- 
sequent shrinkage  upon  the  gradually  contracting  mass  within — 
that  these  elevated  areas  now  forming  the  Continental  platforms, 
and  the  depressed  areas  that  constitute  the  existing  Ocean-floors 
wej-e  formed  as  such  in  the  first  instance,  and  have  remained 
unchanged  in  their  general  relations  from  that  time  to  the 
present,  notwithstanding  the  vast  disturbances  that  have  been 
produced  in  each  by  the  progressive  contraction  of  the  earth's 
crust.  For  this  general  contraction,  coupled  with  the  unequal 
bearing  of  the  different  parts  of  the  crust  upon  one  another,  has 
been  the  chief  agency  in  determining  the  evolution  of  the  earth's 
surface-features ;  producing  local  upheavals  and  subsidences  aUke 
in  the  elevated  and  depressed  areas ;  so  that  lofty  mountains  and 
deep  troughs  have  been  formed,  with  plications  and  contortions 
of  their  component  strata;  metamorphism  of  various  kinds  has 
been  produced,  and  volcanic  action,  with  earthquake  phenomena 
involving  extensive  dislocations  of  the  crust,  has  been  repeated 
through  successive  geological  periods,  mostly  along  particular 
lines  or  in  special  areas,  without  making  any  considerable  altera- 
tion in  the  position  of  the  great  Continent,  or  in  the  real  borders 
of  the  Oceanic  areas,  though  the  amount  of  the  continental  areas 
that  might  be  above  water,  and  the  position  of  their  coast-lines, 
might  vary  greatly  from  time  to  time. 

This  idea  of  the  general  permanence  of  what  we  used  to  call 
the  great  "  ocean  basins "  had,  in  fact,  struck  me  forcibly,  as 
soon  as  the  soundings  of  the  Challenger  and  Tuscarora,  in  the 
Pacific,  enabled  me  to  work  out  the  enormous  disproportion 
between  the  mass  of  land  above  the  sea-level  and  the  volume  of  the 
waters  beneath  it.  At  the  end  of  our  first  {Lightning)  cruise  in 
1868,  my  colleague,  Professor  Wyville  Thomson,  had  pointed  out 
to  me  that  there  is  no  adequate  reason  for  supposing  that  the 


324  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

present  bed  of  the  North  Atlantic  has  ever  been  raised  into  dry 
land  since  the  termination  of  the  Cretaceous  epoch,  which  was 
marked  by  the  elevation  of  the  chalk  formations  of  Europe  and 
Asia  on  the  one  side,  and  of  North  America  on  the  other,  into 
dry  land ;  and  that  the  persistence  of  a  considerable  number  of 
cretaceous  types  in  its  marine  fauna  justifies  the  conclusion  that 
the  deep  sea-bed  of  this  ocean  has  not  undergone  any  essential 
change  of  condition  through  the  whole  of  the  Tertiary  period. 
This  conclusion  I  unhesitatingly  indorsed;  and  though  the  an- 
nouncement of  it  rather  startled  some  of  our  geological  Nestors, 
it  has  come  to  be  generally  accepted  by  the  younger  generation 
as  by  no  means  improbable.  Subsequent  reflection  upon  the 
disproportion  to  which  I  have  just  referred,  though  from  imperfect 
data  I  at  first  z^^/^ffr-estimated  it,  disposed  me  to  extend  the  ?ame 
view  to  the  ocean  basins  generally ;  and  happening  at  the  same 
time  to  become  acquainted  with  the  doctrines  which  had  been 
advanced  by  Professor  Dana  (then  little  known  in  this  country), 
I  was  strongly  impressed  by  their  accordance — this  being  the 
more  remarkable  on  account  of  the  entire  difference  of  the  data 
and  lines  of  reasoning  which  led  Professor  Dana  and  myself  to 
the  same  conclusion.* 

We  are  now  able  to  form  an  estimate  of  the  relative  masses  of 
Land  and  Sea  which  is  probably  not  far  from  the  truth.  The 
area  of  the  existing  land  is  to  that  of  the  sea  as  about  i  to  2f ,  or 
as  4  :  ii;  so  that  if  the  entire  surface  of  the  globe  were  divided 
into  fifteen  equal  parts,  the  land  would  occupy  only  four  of  these, 
or  rather  more  than  a  quarter,  whilst  the  sea  would  cover  eleven, 
or  rather  less  than  three-quarters.  But  the  average  height  of 
the  whole  land  of  the  globe  above  the  sea-level  certainly  does 
not  exceed  looo  feet,  that  of  Asia  and  Africa  being  some- 
what above  that  amount,  while  that  of  America  (North  and 
South),  Europe,  and  Australia  is  considerably  below  it.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  average  depth  of  the  ocean-floors  is  now  known  to 
be  at  least  2\  miles,  and  may  be  taken  (for  the  convenience  of 
round  number)  at  13,000  feet.  Thus  the  average  depth  of 
the  ocean  being  13   times  as  much  as  the  average  height  of  the 

*  See  my   article    "Atlantic,"  in   the   ninth   edition   of  the   Encyclopadia 

Bntannica. 


THE  DEEP  SEA    AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  325 

land,  and  the  area  of  the  sea  2f  times  that  of  the  land,  tJie  total 
volume  of  the  ocean-water  is  {2%  x  it,)  Jt^st  36  thnes  that  of  the  land 
above  the  sea-level. 

Now  this  disproportion  appears  to  me  to  render  it  extremely 
improbable  tliat  any  such  geological  "see-saw"  as  may  have  pro- 
duced successive  alternations  of  land  and  water  between  the  several 
parts  of  the  same  continental  platform  can  have  ever  produced 
an  exchange  between  any  continental  platform  and  an  ocean-floor 
such  as  was  assumed  by  Sir  Charles  Lyell  to  have  taken  place 
over  and  over  again  in  geological  time.*  For  even  supposing  all 
the  existing  land  of  the  globe  to  sink  down  to  the  sea-level,  this 
subsidence  would  be  balanced  by  the  elevation  of  only  one  thirty- 
sixth  part  of  the  existing  ocean-floor  from  its  present  average 
depth  to  the  same  level.  Or,  again,  let  the  great  island-continent 
of  Australia  (whose  area  is  about  one-seventeenth  of  the  total 
land-area  of  the  globe)  be  supposed  to  subside  to  the  depth  of  the 
average  sea-bed,  so  as  to  be  altogether  lost  sight  of  not  only  by 
the  surface  navigator  but  by  the  deep-sea  surveyor,  and  a  com- 
pensatory elevation  to  take  place  in  the  existing  land  area,  this, 
if  limited  to  an  area  of  the  size  of  Australia  (which  is  about  equal 
to  that  of  the  whole  of  Europe),  would  raise  it  all  to  nearly  the 
height  of  Mont  Blanc ;  whilst,  if  spread  over  the  entire  land  area 
of  the  globe,  //  zvould  ncai'ly  double  its  present  average  elevation. 

Now  we  have  no  reason  whatever  to  believe  that  vertical 
upheavals  or  subsidences  have  ever  taken  place  over  extensive 
areas  to  anything  like  such  amounts,  which  have  their  parallels 
only  in  the  elevation  of  lofty  mountain  chains,  or  in  the  comple- 
mentary formation  of  deep  troughs  now  filled  by  sedimentary 
deposit  originating  in  the  degradation  of  the  neighbouring  land ; 
which  local  disturbances  (as  Professor  Dana  has  shown)  have 
been  effected  by  the  lateral  or  horizontal  ihxnst  engendered  during 
the  shrinkage  of  the  globe  in  cooling.  Moreover,  the  contours  of 
the  oceanic  area,  so  far  as  they  have  been  yet  determined  by  the 
Challenger  and  other  soundings,  give  no  sanction  whatever  to 
the  notion  of  the  existence  of  any  submerged  continental  platform. 
On  the  contrary,  the  Challenger  observations  enable  it  to  be 
affirmed  with  high  probability  that  the  islands  which  are  met 
*  See  chap.  xii.  of  his  Prittciples  of  Geology. 


3^6  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

with  in  the  real  oceanic  area  (as  distinguished  from  those  which, 
like  the  British  Isles,  are  really  outlying  parts  of  the  slightly 
sunken  corner  of  the  platform  which  rises  into  continental  land  in 
their  vicinity;  or  which,  like  the  great  islands  of  the  Malayan 
Archipelago,  are  the  "  survivals  "  of  a  continental  platform  more 
deeply  submerged)  are  all  of  Volcanic  origin,  having  been  pro- 
jected upwards  from  beneath,  instead  of  having  gone  down  from 
above.  This  may  be  stated  with  confidence  in  regard  to  all  those 
which  consist  of  inorganic  rocks ;  and  since  it  is  equally  true  of 
those  coral  islands  whose  rock  basis  shows  itself  above  the  surface, 
the  same  maybe  fairly  presumed  in  regard  to  the  submerged  peaks 
on  which  those  "atolls"  rest,  above  whose  level  platforms  no 
rocky  base  now  rises.  These  volcanic  vents  are  generally  found 
on  upward  bulgings  of  median  portions  of  the  depressed  ocean- 
floors  ;  whilst,  on  the  other  hand,  the  volcanoes  which  rise  from 
the  elevated  land-platforms  are  for  the  most  part  thrown  up  near 
their  oceanic  margins;  and  Professor  Dana  gives  mechanical 
reasons  for  both  these  classes  of  facts,  deduced  from  consideration 
of  the  mode  in  which  the  horizontal  thrust  will  be  exerted  in  the 
two  areas  respectively.  The  "  crumpling  "  of  the  elevated  portions 
of  the  crust  which  throws  up  mountain  ridges,  produces  at  the 
same  time  equivalent  depressions,  and  these  will  be  filled  by  sea- 
water  if  it  has  access  to  them,  as  is  the  case  with  the  enormously 
deep  pit-holes  found  in  various  parts  of  the  Malayan  area;  or 
with  fresh  waters  where,  being  cut  off  from  the  sea,  they  are  sur- 
rounded by  a  mountainous  region  affording  a  large  supply  of  it,  as 
in  deep  lake-basins  of  Switzerland ;  or  they  may  remain  almost 
empty  for  want  of  water,  like  the  deeply  depressed  valley  of  the 
Jordan ;  or  may  be  partly  filled,  like  the  Caspian.  And  thus  the 
distribution  of  land  and  water  over  different  parts  of  the  Con- 
tinental platforms  may  have  been  greatly  changed  from  time  to 
time,  and  groups  or  chains  of  islands  may  have  been  raised  and 
again  submerged  in  the  Oceanic  area,  without  making  any  such 
essential  changes  in  the  Map  of  the  World  as  Sir  Charles  Lyell 
supposed  to  have  taken  place  over  and  over  again. 

Now  this  view  of  the  permanence  of  the  great  original  division 
of  the  crust  of  the  earth  into  elevated  and  depressed  areas,  and  of 
the  non-conversion  of  any  considerable  part  of  a  continental  plat- 


THE  DEEP  SEA    AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  327 

form  into  a  deep  sea-bed,  or  of  a  deep  sea-bed  into  a  continental 
platform,  has  received  a  most  unexpected  and  explicit  confirma- 
tion from  the  study  of  the  deposits  at  present  being  formed  on  the 
Oceanic  sea-bed,  of  which  a  sample  was  brought  up  in  every 
sounding  taken  by  the  Challenger,  whilst  larger  collections  of 
them  were  made  by  the  trawl  and  the  dredge.  For  such  deposits 
as  are  obviously  formed  by  the  disintegration  of  ordinary  land- 
masses  were,  as  a  rule,  only  found  in  the  comparatively  shallow 
waters  in  the  near  neighbourhood  of  those  masses,  the  almost 
universal  absence  of  the  ordinary  siliceous  sand  of  our  shores  being 
a  most  noteworthy  fact.  Indeed,  the  exception  served  to  prove 
the  rule ;  for  it  was  only  when  the  Challenger's  course  lay  parallel 
to  the  coast  of  Africa,  some  two  or  three  hundred  miles  to  the 
westward  of  it,  that  the  soundings  gave  evidence  of  its  presence ; 
and  that  this  sand  had  been  blozun  over  the  sea-surface  from  the 
Sahara  was  indicated  by  its  deposit  as  a  fine  dust  on  the  ship's 
deck. :  but  deposits  of  volcanic  origin  were  met  with  in  unexpected 
abundance,  the  most  common  being  a  red  day,  first  found  on  the 
deepest  areas  of  the  Atlantic,  the  source  of  which  was  for  some 
time  a  question  of  great  perplexity  to  the  scientific  staff  of  the 
Challenger,  from  its  presenting  itself  at  such  a  distance  from  any 
land  that  it  could  not  be  supposed  to  have  been  brought  down 
(as  the  clay  deposits  of  shore-waters  are)  by  continentol  rivers. 
'I'he  clue  to  the  solution  of  the  difficulty  was  furnished  by  the 
unexpected  capture,  in  the  "  tow-net,"  of  a  considerable  number 
of  floating  masses  of  pumice-stone,  whilst  the  trawl  frequently 
brought  up  bushels  of  such,  varying  in  size  from  that  of  a  pea  to 
that  of  a  football.  Now  pumice  is  formed  of  ordinary  lava  which 
has  been  raised  (like  dough)  into  a  spongy  condition  by  the 
liberation  of  gases  in  its  substances,  and  it  contains  a  considerable 
proportion  of  feldspar,  which  affords  the  material  of  clay ;  and  as 
the  clay  deposits  were  found  to  contain  fragments  of  pumice  in 
various  stages  of  disintegration,  the  probability  of  their  volcanic 
origin  seeins  so  strong  as  to  justify  its  full  acceptance.  Mr. 
Murray  thinks  it  likely  that  not  only  all  the  pieces  of  pumice 
which  float  on  the  surface,  but  those  spread  over  the  sea-bottorri, 
have  been  ejected  from  /^z/^-volcanoes  ;  some  of  them,  perhaps, 
having  fallen  into  the  sea  in  the  first  instance,  but  the  greater 


328  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

number  having  been  washed  down  by  rain  and  rivers.  After 
floating  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time,  so  as  to  be  carried  about  by 
winds  and  currents,  perhaps  to  very  considerable  distances,  they 
would  become  water-logged  and  sink  to  the  bottom,  and  there 
undergo  gradual  disintegration.  They  were  always  found  in 
greatest  abundance  in  the  neighbourhood  of  volcanic  centres, 
such  as  the  Azores  and  the  Philippines;  and  within  their  areas, 
again,  were  found  tufaceous  deposits — dust  and  ashes  which  had 
been  carried  by  the  winds  blowing  over  the  craters.  But  there  were 
also  occasionally  found,  at  several  hundred  miles'  distance  from 
any  land,  small  pieces  of  obsidian  and  basaltic  lavas,  whose  presence 
there  could  only  be  accounted  for  by  subtnarine  volcanic  action. 

In  association  with  the  clays  there  were  found  remarkable 
deposits  of  manganese,  sometimes  incrusting  corals,  etc.,  with  a 
coating  of  greater  or  less  thickness,  but  more  generally  forming 
nodular  concretions,  varying  in  size  from  little  pellets  to  several 
pounds  in  weight,  which  were  usually  found  to  include  organic 
bodies,  such  as  sharks'  teeth  or  whales'  ear-bones.  The  following 
summary  of  this  curious  class  of  facts  is  given  in  Lord  George 
Campbell's  "  Log-letters  "  : — 

"In  some  regions  everything  at  the  bottom,  even  the  bottom 

"  itself,  would  appear  to  be  overlaid  by  and  impregnated  with  this 

"substance.     Sharks'  teeth  of  all  sizes  (many  gigantic,  one  was 

"four  inches  across  the  base)  are  frequent,  and  are  sometimes  sur- 

"  rounded  by  concentric  layers  of  manganese  of  nearly  an  inch  in 

"  thickness.     A  siliceous  sponge,  bits  of  pumice,  radiolaria  and 

"  globigerinae,  and  lumps  of  clay,  have  all  been  found  forming  the 

"  nuclei  of  these  nodules.     We  have  caught  in  one  haul,  where 

"  there  has  been  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  trawl  has  sunk 

"more  than  two  inches  in  the  clay,  over  600  sharks'  teeth,  100 

"ear-bones  of  whales,  and  fifty  fragments  of  other  bones,  some 

"  embedded  in  manganese  an  inch  thick,  some  with  only  just  a 

"  trace  of  manganese  on  them,  and  some  with  no  trace  at  all. 

"  These  sharks'  teeth  are  all  fossil  teeth,  the  same  as  are  found 

"in  great  quantities  in  Tertiary  formations,  particularly  in  Swiss 

"Miocene  deposits.* 

*  The  writer  does  not  seem  aware  of  the  extraordinary  abundance  of 
similar  sharks' teeth  and  whales' ear-bones  in  the  so-called  "  coprolite  pits  " 
of  our  Suffolk  crag. 


THE  DEEP  SEA   AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  329 

"  As  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  this  aggregation  of 
"  the  manganese  is  a  very  slow  process,  the  occurrence  of  these 
"  teeth  and  bones,  some  embedded  deeply,  and  some  not  at  all,  in 
"  the  same  surface-layers,  argues  strongly  in  favour  of  an  extremely 
"slow  rate  of  deposition.  On  the  other  hand,  the  occurrence  of 
"sharks'  teeth  in  shore  deposits  is  extremely  rare,  and  in  the 
"organic  oozes  slightly  less  so" — p.  495. 

This  deposit  of  manganese  seems,  like  that  of  the  red  clay, 
traceable  to  a  volcanic  source  : — ■ 

"  Wherever  we  have  pumice  containing  much  magnetite, 
"  olivine,  augite,  or  hornblende,  and  these  apparently  undergoing 
"  decomposition  and  alteration,  or  where  we  have  great  showers 
"  of  volcanic  ash,  there  also  is  manganese  in  the  greatest  abund- 
"ance.  The  correspondence  between  the  distribution  of  these 
"two  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  very  significant  of  the  origin 
"of  the  latter.  Manganese  is  as  frequent  as  iron  in  lavas  ;  and  in 
"  magnetite  and  in  some  varieties  of  hornblende  and  augite  it  par- 
"  tially  replaces  peroxide  of  iron.  It  is  therefore  probable  that  the 
"  manganese,  as  we  find  it,  is  one  of  the  secondary  products  arising 
"  from  the  decomposition  of  volcanic  minerals,  that  decomposition 
"  being  caused  by  the  carbonic  acid  and  oxygen  of  ocean-waters." 
— Log- letters,  p.  495. 

These  deep-sea  deposits  of  manganese  differ  in  mineral  structure 
and  composition  from  any  of  the  known  ores  of  that  metal ;  and 
the  conditions  under  which  they  are  being  formed  constitute  a 
problem  of  very  great  interest,  to  which,  as  to  other  points  of  this 
inquiry,  a  most  distinguished  Continental  petrologist,  the  Abb^ 
Renard,  is  now  giving  the  most  careful  attention,  with  the  full  ex- 
pectation of  being  able  to  throw  great  light  upon  the  mode  of 
production  of  many  minerals  whose  origin  has  been  hitherto 
unaccounted  for. 

But  there  is  yet  another  form  of  inorganic  deposit  whose 
character  is  even  more  remarkable  : — 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  clay  from  the  bottom,"  says  Professor 
Geikie,  "  Mr.  Murray  found  numerous  minute  spherical  granules 
"of  native  iron,  which,  as  he  suggests,  are  almost  certainly  of 
meteoric  origin — fragments  of  those  falling  stars  which,  coming  to 
us  from  planetary  space,  burst  into  fragments  when  they  rush 


a 


330         ^  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

"  into  the  denser  layers  of  our  atmosphere.  In  tracts  where  the 
"growth  of  silt  upon  the  sea-floor  is  excessively  tardy,  the  fine 
"particles  scattered  by  the  dissipation  of  these  meteorites  may 
"remain  in  appreciable  quantity.  It  is  not  needful  to  suppose 
"that  meteorites  have  disappeared  over  these  ocean-depths  more 
"numerously  than  over  other  parts  of  the  earth's  surface.  The 
"iron  granules  have  no  doubt  been  as  plentifully  showered  down 
"elsewhere,  though  they  cannot  be  so  readily  detected  in  accumu- 
"  lating  sediment.  I  know  no  recent  discovery  in  physical  geo- 
"graphy  more  calculated  to  impress  deeply  the  imagination  than 
"the  testimony  of  this  meteoric  iron  from  the  most  distant  abysses 
"  of  the  ocean.  To  be  told  that  mud  gathers  on  the  floor  of  those 
"abysses  at  an  extremely  slow  rate  conveys  but  a  vague  notion  of 
"the  tardiness  of  the  process.  But  to  learn  that  it  gathers  so 
**  slowly  that  the  very  star-dust  which  falls  from  outer  space  forms 
"an  appreciable  part  of  it,  brings  home  to  us,  as  hardly  anything 
"  else  could  do,  the  idea  of  undisturbed  and  excessively  slow 
"accumulation." — Lecture  on  Geographical  Evolution^  p.  7. 

Next  to  the  volcanic  clays,  the  globigerina-ooze  (which  had 
been  brought  up  by  the  hundredweight  in  the  Lightning  and 
Porcupine  dredgings)  proved  to  be  the  most  abundant  oceanic 
deposit.  Not  only  from  the  completeness  of  their  minute  shells 
in  the  surface-layer,  but  also  from  the  fact  that  a  large  proportion 
of  these  shells  were  occupied  by  their  sarcodic  bodies  in  an  ap- 
parently fresh  condition,  we  had  concluded  that  the  Globigerinae 
live  on  the  bottoms  on  which  their  remains  accumulate.  But 
since,  in  nearly  all  but  the  coldest  parts  of  the  oceanic  area 
traversed  by  the  Challenger,  they  were  collected  in  abundance 
by  the  "  tow-net "  drawn  through  the  waters  at  or  beneath  the 
surface.  Sir  Wyville  Thompson  and  some  of  his  associates  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  they  pass  their  whole  lives  in  the 
surface  stratum,  their  subsidence  to  the  bottom  only  taking  place 
after  their  death,  I  have  myself,  however,  remained  of  the 
ojjinion  that  they  subside  during  life,  when  the  addition  of  new 
chambers  has  come  to  an  end,  and  the  further  exudation  of  car- 
bonate of  lime  has  been  applied  to  the  thickening  of  the  walls  of 
the  old ;  and  that  they  continue  to  live  on  the  bottom,  continually 
adding  to  the  thickness  of  their  shells.     And  in  this  I  have  the 


THE  DEEP   SEA   AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  .331 

satisfaction  of  finding  myself  supported  by  Mr.  H.  B.  Brady,  into 
whose  most  competent  charge  the  Foraminifera  of  the  Challenger 
have  been  given  for  "  working  up."  For  the  result  of  a  series  of 
most  careful  comparisons  between  the  Globigerinas  brought  up 
from  any  bottom  and  those  captured  floating  in  the  upper  waters 
of  the  same  region,  shows  that  the  shells  of  the  former  so  greatly 
exceed  those  of  the  latter  in  size  and  massiveness  as  to  make  it 
certain  that  they  continued  to  live  and  grow  after  their  subsidence. 

The  careful  examination  in  which  Mr.  Murray  has  been  en- 
gaged of  the  calcareous  deposits  (resembling  chalk  in  process  of 
formation),  chiefly  consisting  of  globigerina-ooze,  but  also  con- 
taining the  disintegrated  remains  of  free-swimming  Pteropod  mol- 
luscs, as  well  as  of  shells  and  corals  that  have  lived  on  the  bottom, 
has  led  him  to  the  remarkable  conclusion  that  in  their  descent 
from  the  upper  waters  towards  the  deeper  sea-bottoms  the  thin 
shells  of  the  Globigerinas  and  the  yet  more  delicate  pteropod 
shells  are  again  dissolved,  by  the  agency  of  the  carbonic  acid 
that  is  held  in  larger  proportion  in  those  abyssal  waters.  And 
thus  it  was  that  on  the  deepest  parts  of  the  Oceanic  area,  though 
Globigerince  were  captured  by  the  tow-net  in  the  same  abundance 
as  elsewhere,  their  remains  were  entirely  wanting  on  the  bottom 
beneath.  At  intermediate  depths  the  ooze  and  the  red  clay 
would  often  be  found  mixed,  in  proportions  that  seemed  related 
to  the  depth.  But  in  the  shallower  waters  not  sufficiently  charged 
with  carbonic  acid  to  exert  any  solvent  powers,  the  organic  de- 
posit prevailed  almost  to  the  exclusion  of  the  inorganic.  This, 
then,  seems  to  have  been  the  condition  of  the  marine  area  in 
which  the  old  Chalk  was  deposited ;  a  variety  of  considerations 
pointing  to  the  conclusion  that  the  sea-bottom  whereon  accumu- 
lated the  foraminiferal  ooze  of  which  it  is  almost  entirely  composed, 
was  of  no  considerable  depth. 

But  the  surface-waters  are  also  inhabited  by  microscopic 
organisms  whose  skeletons  are  composed,  not  of  carbonate  of 
lime,  but  of  silex  ;  and  of  these,  some — the  Diatoms — are  vege- 
table, whilst  others — the  Radiolarians — are  animals  of  about  the 
same  simplicity  as  the  Foraminifera.  The  Diatoms  abound  in 
those  colder  seas  which  are  not  prolific  in  Foraminifera;  often 
accumulating  in  such  numbers  as  to  form  green  bands  that  attract 
15 


332  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

the  notice  of  both  Arctic  and  Antarctic  voyagers.  And  their  ex- 
quisitely sculptured  cases,  accumulating  on  the  bottom,  form  a 
siliceous  "  Diatom-ooze,"  which  takes  the  place  in  higher  latitudes 
of  the  white  calcareous  mud,  resulting  from  the  disintegration  of 
foraminiferal  shells.  The  foraminiferal  ooze,  moreover,  generally 
contains,  in  larger  or  smaller  proportion,  the  beautiful  siliceous 
skeletons  of  Radiolaria ;  and  sometimes  these  were  found  to  pre- 
dominate to  such  a  degree  that  the  ooze  mainly  consisted  of  them, 
in  which  case  it  was  designated  as  radiolarian.  As  siliceous 
skeletons  are  not — like  calcareous — dissolved  by  deep-sea  water, 
those  which  fall  down  from  the  surface  even  upon  the  deepest 
bottoms  rest  there  unchanged  ;  and  thus  it  happens  that  they  are 
found  diffused  through  the  red-clay  deposits,  and,  at  the  greatest 
depths,  sometimes  almost  entirely  replace  them.  Some  of  these 
minute  organisms  were  almost  everywhere  captured  alive  in  the 
tow-net;  but,  like  the  Diatoms,  they  commonly  aggregate  in 
patches  or  bands,  and  this  to  such  a  degree  as  to  colour  the  sea- 
surface,  the  hue  of  their  animal  substance  being  usually  red  or 
reddish-brown.  Such  patches  are  often  seen  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Shetlands,  where  they  are  designated  by  the  fishermen  as 
"  herring  food." 

Thus,  then,  if  we  compare  (i)  the  deposits  now  going  on  upon 
the  deep  Oceanic  sea-bed,  (2)  the  sediments  at  present  in  course 
of  deposition  in  the  shallower  bottoms  nearer  land,  and  (3)  the 
materials  of  the  sedimentary  rocks  of  all  geological  periods,  we 
see  that  whilst  there  is  a  close  correspondence  between  the  second 
and  the  third,  the  first  difTers  so  completely — in  most  particulars 
— from  both  the  others  as  to  be  utterly  beyond  the  range  of 
comparison  with  them ;  the  chief  exception  being  presented  by 
those  calcareous  sediments  which  correspond  with  the  various 
Limestone  formations  intercalated  among  the  sandstones  and 
clays  that  have  had  their  origin  in  the  degradation  of  the  pre- 
existing land.  We  now  know  for  certain  that  the  sands  and  clays 
washed  off  the  land — whether  by  the  action  of  ice  or  river-waters 
on  its  surface,  or  by  the  wearing  away  of  its  margin  by  the  waves 
of  the  sea — sink  to  the  sea-bottom  long  before  they  reach  the 
deeper  abysses ;  not  the  least  trace  of  such  sed'unents  having  been 
ajiywhere  found  at  a  distance  from  the  coniitiental  J>latforms.     And 


THE  DEEP   SEA    AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  333 

thus  the  study  of  the  deposits  on  the  Oceanic  sea-bed  has  fully 
confirmed  the  conclusion  drawn  from  the  present  configuration 
of  the  earth's  surface,  as  to  the  general  persistence  of  those 
original  inequalities  which  have  served  as  the  bases  of  the  exist- 
ing continents,  and  the  floors  of  the  great  ocean  basins. 

In  the  masterly  lecture  on  "  Geographical  Evolution  "  recently 
given  by  Professor  Geikie  before  the  Royal  Geographical  Society, 
the  importance  of  these  results,  as  affording  the  key  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  much  of  the  past  history  of  the  earth,  is  most  fully 
brought  out.  "  For,"  he  unhesitatingly  asserts,  with  all  the  au- 
thority of  a  vast  geological  experience,  "from  the  earliest  geo- 
"  logical  times  the  great  area  of  deposit  has  been,  as  it  still  is,  ^/le 
"  marginal  belt  of  sea-floor  skirting  the  land.  It  is  there  that  nature 
"has  always  strewn  'the  dust  of  continents  to  be.'  The  decay- of 
"  old  rocks  has  been  unceasingly  in  progress  on  the  land,  and  the 
"building  up  of  new  rocks  has  been  as  unceasingly  going  on 
"underneath  the  adjoining  sea.  The  two  phenomena  are  the 
"  complementary  sides  of  one  process,  which  belongs  to  the  terres- 
"  trial  and  shalloiv  oceanic  parts  of  the  earth's  surface,  and  not  to  the 
"  7vide  and  deep  ocean  basins."  "  No  part  of  the  results  obtained 
"  by  the  Challenger  expedition,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  has  a  pro- 
"  founder  interest  for  geologists  and  geographers  than  the  proof 
"  they  furnish  that  the  floor  of  the  ocean-basins  has  no  real  analogy 
"  among  the  sedimentary  formations  which  form  most  of  the  frame- 
"  work  of  the  land."  And  after  dwelling  on  the  chief  facts  I  have 
already  brought  together,  he  thus  sums  up  : — 

"  From  all  this  evidence  we  may  legitimately  conclude  that 
*'  the  present  land  of  the  globe,  though  composed  in  great  measure 
"of  marine  formations,  has  never  lain  under  the  deep  sea,  but 
"  that  its  site  must  always  have  been  near  land.  Even  its  thick 
"  marine  limestones  are  the  deposits  of  comparatively  shallow 
"water.  Whether  or  not  any  trace  of  aboriginal  land  may  now 
"  be  discoverable,  the  characters  of  the  most  unequivocally  marine 
"  formations  bear  emphatic  testimony  to  the  proximity  of  a  terres- 
"  trial  surface.  The  present  continental  ridges  have  probably 
"always  existed  in  some  form;  and  as  a  corollary  we  may  infer 
"that  the  present  deep  oceati-basins  likewise  date  from  the  remotest 
^'■geological  antiquity.^* 


334  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

No  part  of  the  Challenger's  work  has  been  more  thoroughly 
and  successfully  carried  out  than  the  determination  of  the  thermal 
stratification,  or  vertical  distribution  of  temperature  in  the  different 
parts  of  the  Oceanic  area;  an  inquiry  first  prosecuted  with  trust- 
worthy thermometers  ("protected"  to  resist  pressure)  in  the 
Porcupine  expeditions  of  1869  and  1870.  This  determination 
was  effected  by  "serial"  temperature-soundings;  thermometers 
attached  to  a  sounding-line  being  let  down  to  depths  progres- 
sively increasing  by  10  fathoms  down  to  200,  and  below  this  to 
depths  progressively  increasing  by  100  fathoms  to  the  bottom. 
It  is  in  the  upper  stratum  of  200  fathoms  that  the  most  rapid 
reduction  of  temperature  usually  shows  itself;  the  further  re- 
duction beneath  this  stratum  taking  place  at  a  progressively 
diminishing  rate,  until  from  1500  fathoms  downwards  to  the 
bottom  at  any  depth  there  is  usually  very  little  change. 

The  Temperature-soundings  of  the  Challenger,  supplemented 
by  other  more  limited  explorations  of  the  same  kind,  have  clearly 
brought  out  this  most  unexpected  result,  that  the  low  bottom- 
temperatures  previously  observed  represent, — not,  as  has  been 
supposed,  the  overflowing  of  the  sea-bed  by  "  Polar  currents " 
of  limited  breadth  and  inconsiderable  thickness,  overlaid  by  a 
vast  mass  of  comparatively  warm  water, — but  the  reduction  of 
nearly  the  whole  body  of  oceanic  water,  in  every  basin  except 
that  of  the  North  Atlantic  (to  whose  exceptional  character  I  shall 
presently  advert),  to  a  temperature  which  averages  but  a  very  few 
degrees  above  32°  Fahr.,  that  of  its  deepest  stratum  being  some- 
times even  a  degree  or  two  below  the  freezing-point  of  fresh  water; 
while  the  heating  influence  of  the  solar  rays  is  limited  to  a  very 
small  depth  beneath  the  surface. 

Thus  in  the  South  Atlantic,  in  which  a  sounding  taken  near 
37°  S.  lat.  gave  a  depth  of  2900  fathoms  and  a  bottom-tempera- 
ture beneath  32°  Fahr.,  the  lowest  stratum,  consisting  oi  absolutely 
glacial  water,  was  found  to  have  the  enormous  thickness  of  1000 
fathoms  :  this  was  overlaid  by  another  stratum  of  1000  fathoms, 
in  which  the  temperature  rose  slowly  from  32°  at  its  lower  to 
36^°  at  its  upper  surface ;  and  this,  again,  by  another  of  about 
500  fathoms,  which  showed  a  further  rise  at  its  upper  surface  to 
40°,  the  rate  of  elevation  from  below  upwards  being  no  more 
than  about  0.7°  for  every  100  fathoms.     Thus  it  is  only  in  the 


THE   DEEP  SEA    AND   ITS   CONTENTS.  335 

uppermost  layer  of  about  four  hundred  fathoms  (less  than  one- 
seventh  of  the  whole)  that  the  temperature  exceeds  40° ;  and  the 
regularity  of  the  rise  of  the  thermometer,  from  40°  at  its  base  to 
the  summer  surface-temperature  of  70°,  at  the  rate  of  about  "^^^ 
for  every  100  fathoms,  justifies  our  regarding  the  plane  of  40°  as 
the  limit  of  the  depth  at  which  the  solar  rays  here  exert  any  direct 
heating  influence. 

On  her  passage  southwards  towards  the  Antarctic  ice-barrier, 
the  Challenger  found  the  progressive  reduction  of  surface-tempera- 
ture to  correspond  with  the  progressive  thinning  of  the  warm 
superficial  layer  in  a  manner  which  clearly  showed  that  the 
thermal  condition  of  the  southern  ocean  is  entirely  dominated 
by  the  flow  into  it  of  the  great  mass  of  glacial  water  which  has 
been  cooled  down  in  the  Antarctic  area,  and  that  it  is,  so  to  speak, 
a  vast  reservoir  of  cold,  the  outflow  from  which  keeps  down  the 
temperature  of  every  part  of  the  oceanic  area  in  free  communi- 
cation with  it.  This  we  see  best  in  the  Pacific,  whose  vast  basin 
is  almost  entirely  filled  by  water  of  glacial  or  sub-glacial  coldness, 
on  the  surface  of  which  in  the  intertropical  region  there  floats  a 
layer  whose  temperature  rises  rapidly  from  its  lower  limit  of  40° 
to  80°  at  the  surface,  and  whose  thickness  is  nowhere  more  than 
one  fifth  of  the  whole  depth.  This  exceptional  stratum,  which 
clearly  derives  its  heat  from  the  direct  action  of  the  solar  rays 
upon  its  surface,  progressively  thins  away  in  either  hemisphere 
as  it  is  traced  from  the  tropic  to  the  parallel  of  55°,  where  it 
disappears  altogether,  except  in  the  course  of  the  Kuro  Siwo,  or 
gulf-stream  of  the  Pacific,  which  slants  northwards  from  Japan 
towards  Behring's  Strait.  That  the  cold  of  the  great  mass  of 
glacial  and  sub-glacial  water  which  everywhere  underlies  it,  and 
which  rises  to  the  surface  beyond  its  northern  and  southern 
borders,  is  due  to  an  underflow  from  the  Antarctic  area,  is  dis- 
tinctly indicated  by  the  absolute  continuity  of  the  same  glacial 
temperature  throughout  the  deepest  stratum — all  the  way  from 
the  southern  ocean  to  the  Aleutian  Islands,  the  bottom-tempera- 
tures at  depths  of  2000  fathoms  or  more  not  differing  as  much 
as  \°  Fahr.,  whilst  the  thermal  stratification  of  the  whole  super- 
incumbent mass  up  to  within  500  fathoms  of  the  surface  shows 
a  similar  uniformity. 


336  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

The  thermal  condition  of  the  North  Atlantic,  however,  is  very 
different.  Putting  aside  the  extraordinarily  low  temperature  of 
29!°  revealed  by  the  Porcupine  temperature-soundings  in  the 
stratum  occupying  the  deeper  part  of  the  channel  of  500  fathoms 
between  the  Faroe  and  the  Shetland  Islands,  which  has  been 
since  proved  to  be  a  southward  extension  of  the  true  Arctic 
basin,  no  lower  bottom-temperature  than  35°  had  been  anywhere 
met  with  in  our  earlier  work,  while  we  had  found  the  thickness 
of  the  warm  stratum  ranging  from  40°  upwards  to  range  from 
800  to  900  fathoms.  This  want  of  a  truly  glacial  understratum 
I  attributed  to  the  limitation  of  the  communication  between  the 
deeper  parts  of  the  Arctic  and  North  Atlantic  basins,  preventing 
the  coldest  water  of  the  former  from  flowing  out  into  the  latter. 
And  this  explanation  has  been  borne  out  by  the  subsequent 
temperature-soundings  of  the  Valorous,  which  have  shown  the 
existence  of  a  ridge  between  Greenland  and  Iceland,  lying  at  a 
depth  which  allov/s  water  of  35°  to  pass  over  it,  while  keeping 
back  the  deeper  stratum  of  Arctic  water.  I  had  further  predicted 
than  an  Antarctic  underflow  would  probably  be  found  to  range 
to  the  north  of  the  Equator,  where  it  would  be  recognized  by 
the  reduction  of  the  bottom -temperature  below  35° :  and  this 
prediction  was  verified  in  the  first  temperature-section  carried  by 
the  Challenger  obliquely  across  the  Atlantic  to  St.  Thomas's,  the 
bottom-temperature  there  falling  a  degree,  and  showing  a  still 
further  reduction  as  it  was  subsequently  traced  southwards  to  the 
Equator,  where  it  fell  nearly  to  32°. 

But,  further,  I  had  ventured  the  prediction  that  the  meeting 
of  the  Arctic  and  Antarctic  underflows  under  the  Equator  would 
cause  an  uprising  of  cold  water  from  the  bottom  towards  the 
surface,  so  that  the  plane  of  40°  would  be  found  nearer  the  sur- 
face in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  line  than  either  to  the  north 
or  to  the  south  of  it ;  and  it  was  a  great  surprise  to  many  on 
board  the  Challenger  to  find,  as  they  first  approached  the  Equator 
from  the  Tropic  of  Cancer,  the  plane  of  40°  rapidly  rising  from 
a  depth  of  700  fathoms  towards  the  surface,  though  the  tempera, 
ture  of  that  surface-stratum  was  itself  becoming  higher  and  higher 
until  water  of  40°  was  found  at  a  depth  of  less  than  300  fathoms, 
descending  again  to  about  400  as  the  Challenger' s  course  was  laid 


THE   DEEP   SEA    AND   ITS   CONTENTS.  337 

towards  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn.  This  anomaly  had  been  re- 
marked by  Lenz  fifty  years  previously :  but  the  valuable  series 
of  temperature-observations  which  he  took  in  Kotzebue's  second 
voyage  was  strangely  overlooked  by  those  who  ranked  as  the 
highest  authorities  on  the  physics  of  the  earth,  until  recently 
disinterred  by  Professor  Prestwich. 

Not  only  is  the  stratum  of  above  40°  Fahr.  exceptionally  deep 
in  the  North  Atlantic,  but  it  is  exceptionally  warm,  especially  on 
its  western  side,  where  a  stratum  of  water  having  a  temperature 
above  60°  Fahr,  was  found  by  the  Challenger  to  range  to  a  depth 
of  nearly  400  fathoms.  Taking  all  circumstances  into  account, 
I  entertain  no  doubt  that  Sir  Wyville  Thomson  is  right  in  regard- 
ing this  stratum  as  the  reflux  of  the  northern  division  of  the  great 
Equatorial  Current,  from  the  coast  of  the  West  India  Islands  and 
of  the  peninsula  of  Florida,  added  to  that  of  the  Gulf  Stream 
proper.  In  consequence  of  the  evaporation  produced  by  its 
prolonged  exposure  to  the  tropical  sun,  this  water  contains  such 
an  excess  of  salt  as,  in  spite  of  its  high  temperature,  to  be  specifi- 
cally heavier  than  the  colder  water  which  would  otherwise  occupy 
its  place  in  the  basin,  and  consequently  substitutes  itself  for  the 
latter  by  gravitation,  to  a  depth  of  several  hundred  fathoms. 
Thus  it  conveys  the  solar  heat  downwards  in  such  a  manner  as 
to  make  the  North  Atlantic  between  the  parallels  of  20°  and  40° 
a  great  reservoir  of  warmth,  the  importance  of  which  will  presently 
become  apparent. 

The  Challenger  investigations  have  now,  I  think,  afforded 
the  requisite  data  for  the  final  solution  of  a  question  which  has 
been  long  under  discussion — what,  namely,  the  Gulf  Stream  (or 
Florida  Current)  does,  and  what  it  does  tiot,  for  the  amelioration  of 
the  climate  of  North-western  Europe.  All  the  best  hydrographers, 
both  of  this  country  and  of  the  United  States,  agree  in  the  con- 
clusion that  the  Florida  current  dies  out  in  the  mid-Atlantic,  losing 
all  the  attributes  by  which  it  had  been  previously  distinguished — 
its  movement,  its  excess  of  warmth,  and  its  peculiarly  deep  colour; 
and  that  it  then  degenerates  into  a  mere  surface-drift,  the  rate 
and  direction  of  which  depend  entirely  upon  the  prevalent  winds. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  most  conclusive  prooi  has  been  obtained 
by  the  systematic  comparisons  of  sea  and  air  temperatures  along 


338  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

the  western  coasts  of  North-western  Europe  that  the  amelioration 
of  its  winter  climate  is  due  to  the  afflux  of  water  of  a  temperature 
considerably  higher  than  that  of  the  air.  It  has  been  urged  with 
conclusive  force  by  Admiral  Irminger  (of  the  Danish  Navy)  that 
nothing  else  can  account  for  the  openness  of  the  fiords  and  harbours 
of  the  indented  coast  of  Norway,  even  beyond  the  North  Cape, 
through  the  whole  winter ;  whilst  the  opposite  coast  of  East 
Greenland,  ranging,  like  it,  between  the  parallels  of  60°  (that  of 
the  Pentland  Firth)  and  72°  N.,  is  so  blocked  with  ice  throughout 
the  year  as  only  to  be  approachable  in  exceptional  summers. 
And  this  view  has  derived  full  confirmation  from  the  observations 
systematically  carried  on  under  the  direction  of  Professor  Mohn 
of  Christiania  (the  able  director  of  the  Meteorological  Department 
of  Norway),  which  have  shown  how  completely  dependent  the 
temperature  of  the  coast-line  is  upon  that  of  the  sea  which  laves 
it.  For  while  the  temperature  of  the  air  is  generally  much  below 
the  freezing-point  during  the  winter  months,  that  of  the  water 
is  always  considerably  above  it;  the  average  excess  at  Fruholm, 
near  the  North  Cape,  being  as  much  as  14^°  Fahr,  And  it  has 
been  further  shown  by  Professor  Mohn  that  not  only  the  coast- 
temperature  of  Norway  during  the  winter,  but  its  inland  climate, 
is  affected  in  a  very  marked  manner  by  this  afflux  of  warm  water  ; 
for  the  "  isocheimals,"  or  lines  of  mean  winter-temperature,  instead 
of  corresponding  with  the  parallels  of  latitude,  lie  parallel  to  the 
coast-line. 

How,  then,  are  these  phenomena  to  be  explained  ?  If  the  vis 
a  iergo  of  the  Gulf  Stream  has  spent  itself  in  the  mid-Atlantic,  what 
force  brings  this  afflux  of  warm  water  to  our  shores,  and  carries  it 
on  to  the  north-east,  along  the  coast  of  Norway,  and  even  past  the 
North  Cape  to  Spitzbergen  and  NovaZembla?  And  how  does 
it  happen  that  the  water  that  laves  our  north-western  shores  in 
winter  is  not  only  so  much  warmer  than  the  air  which  rests  upon 
it,  but  continues  to  preserve  a  notable  portion  of  that  warmth,  at 
least  as  far  as  the  North  Cape,  notwithstanding  that  as  it  flows 
northwards  its  temperature  is  more  and  more  in  excess  of  that  of 
the  atmosphere  above  it  ? 

It  is  obvious  that  the  continual  outflow  of  the  deeper  stratum 
of  Polar  water,  of  which  we  have  evidence  in  the  constant  main- 


THE   DEEP   SEA    AND   ITS   CONTENTS.  339 

tenance  of  the  glacial  temperature,  not  only  of  the  sea-bottom, 
but  of  the  great  mass  of  the  water  contained  in  the  vast  oceanic 
basin,  cannot  be  maintained  without  a  continual  indraught  of  the 
upper  stratum  towards  the  Poles  ;  this,  as  its  temperature  is  pro- 
gressively lowered,  decreases  in  volume  and  increases  in  specific 
gravity ;  and  as  the  lower  stratum  flows  away  under  the  excess  of 
pressure,  the  upper  stratum,  now  cooled  down  nearly  to  the 
freezing-point  of  salt  water,  will  sink  into  its  place,  making  way 
for  a  new  indraught  above.  The  two  Polar  underflows,  on  the 
other  hand,  meeting  at  or  near  the  Equator,  will  there  tend  to  rise 
towards  the  surface,  replacing  the  water  which  has  been  draughted 
away  towards  either  Pole;  and  thus  a  constant  "vertical  circulation  " 
must  be  kept  up  by  opposition  of  temperature  alone,  analogous  to 
that  which  takes  place  in  the  pipes  of  the  hot-water  apparatus  by 
which  large  buildings  are  now  commonly  warmed.  The  only 
essential  difference  between  the  two  cases  is,  that  whilst  the 
primum  inobite  in  the  latter  is  the  heat  applied  to  the  bottom  of 
the  boiler,  making  the  warmed  water  ascend  by  the  reduction  of  its 
specific  gravity  due  to  its  expansion,  the  moving  power  in  the 
former  is  the  cold  applied  to  the  surface  of  the  Polar  water,  making 
it  descend  by  the  increase  of  specific  gravity  due  to  the  diminution 
in  its  bulk  as  its  temperature  is  lowered. 

This  doctrine  was  first  distinctly  promulgated  nearly  forty  years 
ago  by  the  eminent  physicist  Lenz,  on  the  basis  of  the  temperature- 
observations  he  had  made  in  Kotzebue's  second  voyage  more  than 
ten  years  previously ;  these  having  satisfied  him  of  two  facts — first, 
the  general  diffusion  of  a  glacial  temperature  over  the  ocean-bottom, 
which  he  rightly  interpreted  as  dependent  on  an  underflow  of 
Polar  water  ;  and,  second,  the  near  approach  of  cold  water  to  the 
surface  under  the  Equator  than  either  on  the  north  or  on  the 
south  of  it,  which  he  considered  to  indicate  an  uprising  of  that 
Polar  water  from  below,  where  the  two  underflows  meet.  But, 
though  accepted  by  Pouillet  and  other  distinguished  physicists, 
this  doctrine,  with  the  observations  by  which  it  was  supported 
was  entirely  lost  sight  of  until  independently  advanced  by  myself 
as  the  only  feasible  explanation  of  the  Poleward  movement  of 
the  whole  upper  stratum  of  North  Atlantic  water,  and  of  the 
southward  outflow  of  glacial  water  from  the  Arctic  basin,  of  which 


340  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

the  Porcupine  temperature-soundings  seemed  to  afford  conclusive 
evidence. 

My  explanation,  though  contested  by  Mr.  Croll,  and  not 
accepted  by  Sir  Wyville  Thomson,  has  been  explicitly  adopted  by 
a  large  number  of  eminent  physicists,  both  British  and  Continental, 
among  whom  I  may  specially  mention  Professor  Mohn  of  Chris- 
tiania,  who  had  previously  maintained  the  dependence  of  the  re- 
markable climatic  condition  of  Norway  on  the  north-east  extension 
of  the  true  Gulf  Stream.  Immediately  on  receiving  the  report  in 
which  I  had  demonstrated  the  inadequacy  of  the  Florida  current 
to  propel  as  far  as  the  coast  of  Norway  the  vast  body  of  warm 
water  required  to  keep  its  harbours  open,  and  had  shown  the  depen- 
dence of  the  north-east  movement  of  the  warm  upper  stratum  to 
the  depth  of  500  fathoms  (which  I  had  myself  first  recognized  in 
the  Porcupine),  on  the  Poleward  indraught  that  forms  the 
necessary  complement  of  the  outward  glacial  underflow,  Professor 
Mohn  not  only  expressed  to  me  his  entire  concurrence  in  both 
views,  but  communicated  to  me  a  remarkable  example  he  had 
himself  met  with  of  a  similiar  vertical  circulation  on  a  smaller 
scale.  It  is  to  the  remarkable  thickness  of  this  Poleward  flow 
that  its  surface-layer  owes  its  power  of  so  long  resisting  the  cooling 
effect  of  the  atmosphere  which  overlies  it;  so  that,  as  it  flows 
along  the  coast  of  Norway  towards  the  North  Cape,  its  temperature 
even  in  winter  sustains  so  much  smaller  a  reduction  than  that  of 
the  atmosphere  as  to  give  it  an  excess  which  constantly  increases 
with  its  northing.  But  though  its  surface-temperature  is  so  little 
reduced,  the  thickness  of  this  warm  stratum  is  undergoing  pro- 
gressive diminution  as  its  deeper  layers  successively  go  up  to 
replace  those  which  have  been  chilled  and  have  gone  down ;  so 
that  beyond  the  North  Cape  the  surface-temperature  rapidly  falls 
with  the  eastward  movement  of  this  flow  along  the  northern  shores 
of  Europe  and  Asia;  and  all  trace  of  heat  imported  from  the 
southwest  at  last  dies  out. 

As  the  superheating  of  the  upper  stratum  of  the  mid-x\tlantic  is 
dependent  on  the  influx  of  Gulf  Stream  and  other  water  ex- 
ceptionally warmed  in  the  Equatorial  Current,  the  thermal  effect  of 
its  north-east  flow  is  mainly  dependent  upon  the  Gulf  Stream  and 
its  adjuncts,  while  its  niovement  is  kept  up  by  the  Polar  indraught. 


THE   DEEP   SEA    AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  341 

Thus  neither  the  general  Oceanic  Circulation  nor  the  Gulf  Stream 
could  alone  produce  the  result  which  is  due  to  their  conjoint  action. 
The  Gulf  Stream  water,  without  the  Polar  indraught,  would  remain 
in  the  mid-Atlantic  ;  and  the  Polar  indraught,  without  Gulf  Stream 
water  to  feed  it,  would  be  almost  as  destitute  of  thermal  power  as 
it  is  in  the  South  Atlantic. 

The  transient  visit  of  the  ChaUctiger  to  the  Antarctic  ice-barrier 
gave  her  scientific  staff  the  opportunity  of  examining  the  structure 
of  the  southern  icebergs,  which  altogether  differs  from  that  of  the 
icebergs  with  wliich  our  northern  navigators  are  familiar ;  these 
last  being  now  universally  regarded  as  glaciers,  which  have 
descended  the  seaward  valleys  of  Greenland  and  Labrador,  and 
have  floated  away  when  no  longer  supported  by  solid  base  ;  and 
the  information  they  have  gathered  is  of  considerable  interest,  as 
helping  us  to  form  a  more  definite  conception  of  the  condition  of 
our  own  part  of  the  globe  during  the  glacial  epoch.  A  number  of 
independent  considerations  now  lead  almost  irresistibly  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  icebergs  of  the  Antarctic  are  for  the  most  part 
detached  portions  of  a  vast  ice-sheet,  covering  a  land  surface — either 
continuous,  or  broken  up  into  an  archipelago  of  islands — which 
occupies  the  principal  part  of  the  vast  circumpolar  area,  estimated 
at  about  four  and  a  half  millions  of  square  miles,  or  nearly  double 
the  area  of  Australia.  Of  this  ice-sheet,  the  edge  forms  the  great 
southern  "  ice-barrier,"  which  presents  itself,  wherever  it  has  been 
approached  sufficiently  near  to  be  distinctly  visible,  as  a  continuous 
ice-cliff,  rising  from  aoo  to  250  feet  above  the  sea-level. 

The  icebergs  of  the  Antarctic  Sea  are,  as  a  rule,  distinguished 
by  their  tabular  form,  and  by  the  great  uniformity  of  their  height  • 
this,  in  bergs  which  show  least  signs  of  change  since  their  first 
detachment  from  the  parent  mass,  seldom  varies  much  from  200 
feet  above  the  sea-line.  The  tabular  surface  of  the  typical  berg  is 
nearly  flat,  and  parallel  with  the  sea-line ;  its  shape  usually 
approaches  the  rectangular,  and  it  is  bounded  all  round  by  nearly 
perpendicular  cliffs.  From  a  comparison  of  the  specific  gravity  of 
berg-ice  with  that  of  sea-water,  it  appears  that  the  quantity  of  ice 
beneath  the  surface  required  to  float  that  which  is  elevated  above 
it  must  be  about  nine  times  as  great ;  in  other  words,  supposing 


342  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

that  a  berg  had  the  regular  shape  of  a  box,  its  entire  depth  from 
its  upper  surface  to  its  base  must  be  ten  times  its  height  above  the 
sea-level.  Consequently,  if  the  latter  be  200  feet,  the  entire  height 
of  the  mass  would  be  2000  feet,  which  might  thus  be  assumed  to 
be  the  thickness  of  the  ice-sheet  from  whose  margin  it  was  detached. 
This  estimate  must  not  be  accepted,  however,  as  other  than  ap- 
proximative. The  dimensions  of  these  bergs  vary  greatly.  Those 
seen  from  the  Chalie?iger  were  generally  from  one  to  three  miles 
long ;  but  single  bergs  are  reported  of  seven  or  even  ten  miles  in 
length  ;  and  an  enormous  mass  of  floating  ice,  probably  composed 
of  a  chain  of  bergs  locked  together,  forming  a  hook  60  miles  long 
by  40  broad,  and  inclosing  a  bay  40  miles  in  breadth,  was  passed  in 
1854  by  twenty-one  merchant  ships,  in  a  latitude  corresponding 
to  that  of  the  northern  coast  of  Portugal. 

The  upper  part  of  the  ice-cliff  that  forms  the  exposed  face  of 
the  bergs  is  of  a  pale  blue,  which  gradually  deepens  in  colour 
towards  the  base.  When  looked  at  closely,  it  is  seen  to  be 
traversed  by  a  delicate  horizontal  ruling  of  faint  blue  lines 
separated  by  dead-white  interspaces.  These  lines  preserve  a 
very  marked  parallelism,  but  become  gradually  closer  and  closer 
from  above  downwards,  their  distance  being  a  foot  or  even  more 
at  the  top  of  the  berg,  but  not  more  than  two  or  three  inches  near 
the  surface  cf  the  water,  where  the  interspaces  lose  their  dead 
whiteness,  and  become  hyaline  or  bluish.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  this  stratification  is  due  to  successive  accumulations  of  snow 
upon  a  nearly  level  surface,  the  spaces  between  the  principal  blue 
lines  probably  representing  approximately  the  snow-accumulations 
of  successive  seasons.  The  direct  radiant  heat  of  the  sun  is  very 
considerable  even  in  these  latitudes,  so  that  the  immediate  surface 
of  the  snow  is  melted  in  the  middle  of  every  ctSar  day;  and  the 
water,  percolating  into  the  subjacent  layers,  freezes  again  at  night. 
The  frequent  repetition  of  this  process  will  convert  a  very  con- 
siderable thickness  of  snow  into  ice  ;  the  blue  transparent  lamellae 
being  the  most  compact,  whilst  the  intervening  white  veins  are 
rendered  semi-opaque  by  the  presence  of  air-cells.  And  it  is 
obviously  the  compression  which  these  undergo  that  causes  the 
approximation  of  the  blue  lines,  and  the  change  to  a  greater  com- 
pactness   and   transparence   in   the   intervening   layers,    towards 


THE   DEEP   SEA    AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  343 

the   bottom    of    the    cHff.     Sh'ght   irregularities    in    the   general 
parallelism  of  the  stratification,  and  the  occasional  thinning-out  of 
particular  lamella;,  were  easily  accounted  for  by  the  drifting  of  the 
snow-layers  of  the  surface,  before  they  had  become  consolidated. 
And  although  there  are  various  cases  in  which  the  strata  had 
been  changed  from  their  original  horizontality  to  various  degrees 
of  inclination,  sometimes  also  being  traversed  by  "  faults,"  and 
occasionally   even    twisted   and    contorted,    these    might   all  be 
accounted  for  by  forces  acting  subsequently  to  the  detachment 
of  the  bergs.     For   their   plane    of  flotation  is  liable  to  altera- 
tion by  changes  of  form  due   to  unequal  melting,  and  the  sepa- 
ration of  large  masses  either  above   or  below   the  surface  ;   and 
"  dislocations "   of  various  kinds  will  be  produced  by  collisions 
and  lateral  thrusts,  when  bergs  are  impelled  against  each  other 
by  the  wind.      Sir  Wyville  Thomas  and    Mr.   Moseley  entirely 
agree  in  the  statement  that  they  could  nowhere  trace  any  such 
"  structure "  as  is   produced  in  a  land-glacier  during  its  move- 
ment down  a  valley,   by   the    curvature    and    contraction  of  its 
rocky  borders,  and  the  inequalities  of  the  bottom  over  which  it 
moves.     And  the  presumption  is  altogether  very  strong  that  these 
vast  masses  have  originally  formed  part  of  a  great  ice-sheet,  formed 
by  the  cumulative  pressure  of  successive  snow-falls  over  a  land 
area  of  no  great  elevation  ;  which  flows  downwards  from  its  highest 
level  in  the  direction  of  least  resistance,  that  is  to  say  from  the 
Polar  centre  towards  the  continually  disintegrating  margin,  pro- 
gressively diminishing  in  thickness  as  it  extends  itself  peripherally. 
Thus  gradually  moving  seawards,  the  ice-sheet  will  at  last  pass 
the  margin  of  the  land,  but  will  continue  to  rest  upon  the  gradually 
descending  sea-bed,  flowing  down  its  gentle  slope  until  lifted  by 
its  own  buoyancy  (like  a  vessel  or  launch),  when  vast  masses  will 
break  off  and  float  away. 

Although  the  observers  of  the  Challenger  did  not  see  either 
masses  of  rock,  stones,  or  even  gravel  upon  any  of  the  icebergs 
they  approached,  VVilkes  and  Ross  saw  many  such  :  and  the 
"soundings"  of  the  Challenger  were  found  to  consist  of  such 
comminuted  clays  and  sands  as  would  be  the  result  of  the  abrasion 
of  rocky  surfaces  over  which  the  ice-sheet  had  moved ;  while 
the  dredge  brought  up  a  considerable  quantity  of  land  debris — 


344  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

chiefly  basaltic  pebbles  about  the  meridian  of  80°  E.,  and  further 
to  the  eastward  pebbles  and  larger  fragments  of  metamorphic 
rocks.  It  was  probably  from  the  valleys  of  the  great  volcanic 
range  that  the  rock-masses  came  which  were  observed  on  bergs 
by  Wilkes  and  Ross ;  one  of  which,  clearly  of  volcanic  origin, 
weighed  many  tons.  That  the  southern  circumpolar  area  is 
chiefly  land,  and  not  water,  seems  to  be  further  indicated  by  the 
absence  of  any  such  low  temperature  of  the  deeper  water  as  Sir 
George  Nares  ascertained  to°  exist  beneath  the  "  palseocrystic  "  ice 
of  high  northern  latitudes.  For  the  thermometers  lowered 
through  borings  in  that  ice  gave  28°  Fahr,  at  all  depths,  this  being 
the  lowest  temperature  at  which  sea-water  can  remain  unfrozen 
under  ordinary  circumstances.  On  the  other  hand,  the  bottom 
temperatures  taken  in  the  Challenger  in  closest  proximity  to 
the  Antarctic  ice-barrier  nowhere  proved  to  be  lower  than  the 
temperature  of  surface-stratum  which  was  cooled  by  the  melting 
of  the  berg-ice,  thus  indicating  the  absence  of  any  supply  of  yet 
colder  water  from  a  source  nearer  the  Pole. 

Thus  the  antarctic  "  ice-barrier  "  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  margin 
of  a  Polar  "  ice-cap,"  whose  thickness  at  its  edge  is  probably 
about  2000  feet,  nine  tenths  of  it  lying  beneath  the  water-line. 
This  margin  is  not  permanent,  but  is  continually  wasting  away 
like  the  terminal  portion  of  a  land-glacier — not,  however,  by 
liquefaction,  but  by  disruption — and  is  as  continually  renewed  by 
the  spreading  out  of  the  piled-up  ice  of  the  area  within.  What 
may  be  the  thickness  of  the  "  ice-cap  "  nearer  its  Polar  centre  we 
have  at  present  no  means  of  knowing  ;  but  it  must  doubtless  be 
kept  down  by  the  facility  of  downward  flow  in  almost  every 
direction  towards  its  periphery  of  10,000  miles. 

In  regard  to  the  animal  life  of  the  deep  sea,  the  Challenger 
researches  do  not  seem  likely  to  yield  any  new  general  result  of 
striking  interest.  Our  previous  work  had  shown  that  a  depth  of 
three  miles,  a  pressure  of  three  tons  on  the  square  inch,  an  entire 
absence  of  sunlight,  and  a  temperature  below  32°,  might  be  sustained 
by  a  considerable  number  and  variety  of  animal  types  :  and  this 
conclusion  has  been  fully  confirmed  and  widely  extended.  Many 
specimens  have  been  brought  up  alive  from  depths  exceeding  four 
miles,  at  which  the  pressure  was  four  tons  on  the  square  inch, 


THE  DEEP  SEA  AND  ITS  CONTENTS.  345 

considerably  exceeding  that  exerted  by  the  hydraulic  presses  used 
for  packing  Manchester  goods.  Even  the  "protected"  ther- 
mometers specially  constructed  for  deep-sea  sounding  were 
frequently  crushed  ;  and  a  sealed  glass  tube  containing  air,  having 
been  lowered  (within  a  copper  case)  to  a  depth  of  2,000  fathoms, 
was  reduced  to  a  fine  powder  almost  Hke  snow  by  what  Sir  Wyville 
Thomson  ingeniously  characterized  as  an  mplosion,  the  pressure 
having  apparently  been  resisted  until  it  could  no  longer  be 
borne,  and  the  whole  having  been  then  disintegrated  at  the  same 
moment.  The  rationale  of  the  resistance  afforded  by  soft-bodied 
animals  to  a  pressure  which  thus  affects  hard  glass  is  simply 
that  they  contain  no  air,  but  consist  of  solids  and  liquids 
only ;  and  that  since  their  constituent  parts  are  not  subject  to 
more  than  a  very  trifling  change  of  bulk,  while  the  equality  of  the 
pressure  in  every  direction  will  prevent  any  change  in  their  form, 
there  is  really  nothing  to  interfere  with  the  ordinary  performance 
of  their  vital  functions. 

The  entire  absence  of  solar  light,  which  constitutes  another 
most  important  peculiarity  in  the  conditions  of  deep-sea  life,  would 
seem  at  first  sight  to  be  an  absolute  bar  to  its  maintenance.  Ex- 
perimental evidence  has  not  yet,  I  believe,  been  obtained  of  the 
direct  penetration  of  the  solar  rays  to  more  than  100  fathoms  ;  but 
as  I  dredged  slow-growing  red  calcareous  Algse  (true  corallines) 
in  the  Mediterranean  at  a  depth  of  150  fathoms  (at,  or  below, 
which  Edward  Forbes  also  would  seem  to  have  met  with  them), 
the  actinic,  if  not  the  luminous,  rays  must  probably  penetrate  to 
that  range.  Below  what  Edward  Forbes  termed  the  coralline 
zone,  it  would  seem  impossible  that  any  other  type  of  vegetable 
life  can  be  sustained,  than  such  as  has  the  capacity  of  the  fungi 
for  growing  in  the  dark,  living,  like  them,  upon  material  supplied 
by  the  decomposition  of  organic  compounds.  Such  lowly  phmts 
have  been  found  by  Professor  P.  M.  Duncan  in  corals  dredged 
h^om  more  than  1000  fathoms'  depth. 

Upon  what,  then,  do  deei)-sca  animals  feed  ?  In  tlie  early 
stage  of  this  inquiry  it  was  ascertained  by  Dr.  Frankland  that  the 
samples  of  water  procured  by  the  Porcupine  not  only  at  con- 
siderable distances  from  land,  but  also  from  bottoms  exceeding 
500  fathoms'  depth,  contained  so  much  organic  matter  not  in  a 


346  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

decomposing  state  that  animals  having  a  large  absorbent  surface, 
and  requiring  but  a  small  proportion  of  solids  in  their  food,  might 
be  sustained  by  simple  imbibition.  And  an  adequate  provision  for 
the  continual  restoration  of  such  material  to  the  ocean-waters 
seemed  to  be  made  by  the  surface-vegetation  which  fringes  almost 
every  sea-margin,  and  which  occasionally  extends  itself  over  large 
tracts  in  the  open  ocean,  as,  notably,  in  the  Sargasso  Sea.  But 
the  Challenger  researches  have  thrown  a  new  light  on  this 
question,  by  showing  that  the  animals  of  the  deep  sea  are  largely 
dependent  for  their  food  upon  the  minute  organisms  and  the 
debris  of  larger  ones  which  are  continually  falling  to  the  bottom 
from  the  upper  waters. 

"  This  debris  (says  Mr.  Moseley)  is  no  doubt  mainly  derived 
"  from  the  surface  Pelagic  flora  and  fauna,  but  is  also  to  a  large 
"  extent  composed  of  refuse  of  various  kinds  washed  down  by 
"  rivers,  or  floated  out  to  sea  from  shores,  and  sunken  to  the 
"  bottom  when  water-logged.  The  dead  Pelagic  animals  must  fall 
"  as  a  constant  rain  of  food  upon  the  habitation  of  their  deep-sea 
"  dependants.  Maury,  speaking  of  the  surface  Foraminifera, 
"  wrote,  '  The  sea,  like  the  snow-cloud,  with  its  flakes  in  a  calm, 
"  '  is  always  letting  fall  upon  its  bed  showers  of  microscopic  shells.' 
"  It  might  be  supposed  that  these  shells  and  other  surface- 
"  animals  would  consume  so  long  a  time  in  dropping  to  the 
"  bottom  in  great  depths,  that  their  soft  tissues  would  be  decom- 
"  posed,  and  that  they  would  have  ceased  to  be  serviceable  as 
"  food  by  the  time  they  reached  the  ocean  bed.  Such,  however, 
"  is  not  the  case,  partly  because  the  salt  water  of  the  sea  exercises 
"  a  strongly  preservative  effect  on  animal  tissues,  partly  because 
"  the  time  required  for  sinking  is  in  reality  not  very  great." — 
Notes  by  a  Naturalist,  p.  582. 

Of  this  Mr.  Moseley  assured  himself  by  an  experimental  test, 
which  indicated  that  the  dead  body  of  a  floating  salpa  might  sink 
to  a  depth  of  2000  fathoms  in  little  more  than  four  days,  whilst 
its  body  might  remain  for  a  month  so  far  undecomposed  as  to  be 
serviceable  as  food  to  deep-sea  animals.  As  land  was  neared, 
moreover,  many  interesting  proofs  were  obtained  of  the  feeding 
of  deep  sea  animals  on  debris  derived  from  the  neighbouring 
shores. 


THE   DEEP  SEA   AND  ITS  CONTENTS.  347 

"  Thus,  off  the  coast  of  New  South  Wales  we  dredged  from  400 
"  fathoms  a  large  sea-urchin  which  had  its  stomach  full  of  pieces 
"  of  a  sea-grass  (Zostera)  derived  from  the  coast  above.  Again, 
"we  dredged  from  between  the  New  Hebrides  and  AustraUa, 
"from  1400  fathoms,  a  piece  of  wood  and  half  a  dozen  examples 
"  of  a  large  palm-fruit  as  large  as  an  orange.  In  one  of  these  fruits, 
"  which  had  hard  woody  external  coats,  the  albumen  of  the  fruit 
"  was  still  preserved,  perfectly  fresh  in  appearance,  and  white, 
"  like  that  of  a  ripe  cocoa-nut.  The  hollows  of  the  fruits  were 
"  occupied  by  two  molluscs  ;  the  husks  and  albumen  were  bored  by 
"  a  teredo-like  mollusc ;  and  the  fibres  of  the  husks  had  among 
"them  small  nematoid  worms. — p.  583. 

Branches  of  trees,  also,  and  leaves  of  shrubs,  in  a  water-logged 
condition,  were  occasionally  brought  up  in  the  dredge  from  great 
depths ;  and  their  occurrence,  as  Mr.  Moseley  remarks,  is  of  im- 
portance, not  only  to  the  naturalist,  as  showing  that  deep-sea 
animals  may  draw  large  supplies  of  food  from  such  sources,  but 
also  to  the  geologist,  as  indicating  the  manner  in  which  specimens 
of  land  vegetation  may  have  been  imbedded  in  deposits  formed 
at  great  depths. 

The  entire  absence  of  sunlight  on  the  deep-sea  bottom  seems 
to  have  the  same  effect  as  the  darkness  of  caves,  in  reducing  to  a 
rudimentary  condition  the  eyes  of  such  of  their  inhabitants  as  fish 
and  Crustacea,  which  ordinarily  enjoy  visual  power  ;  and  many  of 
these  are  provided  with  enormously  long  and  delicate  feelers  or 
hairs,  in  order  that  they  may  feel  their  way  about  with  these,  just 
as  a  blind  man  does  with  his  stick.  But  other  deep-sea  animals 
have  enormously  large  eyes,  enabling  them  to  make  the  best  of 
the  little  light  there  is  in  the  depths,  which  is  probably  derived  (as 
suggested  in  the  report  of  the  Poraipine  dredgings)  from  the 
phosphorescence  emitted  by  many  deep-sea  animals,  especially  a 
certain  kind  of  zoophytes.  "  It  seems  certain,"  says  Mr.  Moseley, 
"  that  the  deep  sea  must  be  lighted  here  and  there  by  greater  or 
"  smaller  patches  of  luminous  alcyonarians,  with  wide  intervals, 
"  probably,  of  total  darkness  intervening  ;  and  very  possibly  the 
"  animals  with  eyes  congregate  round  these  sources  of  light."  It 
is  remarkable  that  with  such  poverty  of  light  there  should  be  such 
richness  of  colour  among  deep-sea  animals.     Although  most  deep- 


348  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

sea  fish  are  of  a  dull  black  colour,  and  some  white  as  if  bleached, 
deep-sea  crustaceans,  echinoderms,  and  zoophytes  usually  exhibit 
more  colour  than  the  corresponding  forms  that  inhabit  shallow 
water.  Thus  tne  deep-sea  shrimps,  which  were  obtained  in  very 
great  abundance,  were  commonly  of  an  intensely  bright  scarlet ; 
deep-sea  holothurians  are  often  of  a  deep  purple ;  and  many  deep- 
sea  corals  have  their  soft  structures  tinged  with  a  madder  colouring- 
matter  resembling  that  which  occurs  in  surface-swimming  jelly-fish. 

As  was  to  be  expected  from  the  results  of  the  Lightning  and 
Porcupine  dredging s,  the  more  extended  explorations  of  the 
Challenger  have  shown  that  there  still  live  on  the  sea-depths  a 
number  of  animal  forms  which  were  supposed,  until  thus  found, 
to  be  extinct,  existing  only  as  fossils.  And  large  numbers  of 
interesting  new  genera  and  species  of  known  families  of  animals 
were  obtained ;  whilst  many  forms  which  had  been  previously 
accounted  of  extreme  rarity  have  proved  to  be  really  common, 
having  a  wide  geographical  range,  and  occurring  in  large  numbers 
in  particular  spots.  This  is  tlie  case,  for  example,  with  the 
beautiful  Pentacrinus,  a  survivor  from  the  old  Liassic  times,  of 
which  the  living  specimens  preserved  in  all  the  museums  of  the 
world  could  a  i&n  years  ago  have  been  counted  on  the  fingers,  all 
of  them  having  been  brought  up  on  fishing-lines  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  West  India  Islands.  As  many  as  twenty  speci- 
mens of  a  new  species  of  this  most  interesting  type,  however,  had 
been  brought  up  from  a  depth  of  800  fathoms  in  one  of  the  Por- 
cupine dredgings  off  the  coast  of  Portugal.  The  Challenger  made 
a  large  collection,  including  several  new  species,  from  various 
localities.  And  yet  more  recently  the  dredgings  of  Professor 
Alexander  Agassiz  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  have  shown  how  thickly 
many  parts  of  the  sea-bed  are  covered  with  these  "  lily  stars " 
mounted  upon  their  long  wavy  stalks. 

Those,  however,  who  had  expected  results  of  greater  zoo- 
logical and  palaeontological  importance  from  these  explorations 
must  confess  to  some  disappointment :  — 

"  Most  enthusiastic  representations  (says  Mr.  Moseley)  were 
"  held  by  many  naturalists,  and  such  were  especially  put  forward 
"  by  the  late  Professor  Agassiz,  who  had  hopes  of  finding  almost 
*'all  important  fossil  forms  existing  in  life  and  vigour  at  great 


THE  DEEP  SEA   AND  ITS   CONTENTS.  349 

"depths.  Such  hopes  were  doomed  to  disappointment;  but 
"  even  to  the  last,  every  cuttle-fish  which  came  up  in  our  deep- 
"  sea  net  was  squeezed  to  see  if  it  had  a  Belemnite's  bone  in  its 
"  back,  and  Trilobites  were  eagerly  looked  out  for.  .  .  .  We 
"  picked  up  no  missing  links  to  fill  up  the  gaps  of  the  great  zoo- 
"  logical  family  tree.  The  results  of  the  Challenget^s  voyage  have 
"  gone  to  prove  that  the  missing  links  are  to  be  sought  out  rather 
"  by  more  careful  investigation  of  the  structure  of  animals  already 
"  partially  known,  than  by  hunting  for  entirely  new  ones  in  the 
"deep  sea." — Notes  by  a  Naturalist,  p.  587. 

The  work  which  has  been  already  done  by  Mr.  Moseley  him- 
self in  this  direction,  contained  in  the  memoirs  he  has  presented 
to  the  Royal  and  the  Linneean  Society,  is  of  first-rate  value.  And 
if  the  whole,  or  even  any  considerable  part,  of  the  vast  Challenger 
collection  shall  be  worked  out  by  the  various  specialists  among 
whom  it  has  been  distributed,  with  anything  like  the  same  com- 
pleteness and  ability,  it  cannot  be  questioned  that  the  series  of 
volumes  in  which  the  scientific  results  of  this  voyage  will  be  em- 
embodied  will  far  surpass  in  interest  and  importance  those  reports 
of  previous  Circumnavigation  Expeditious  which  are  accounted 
models  of  their  class. 


350  l^ATbRE  AND  MAN. 


xri. 

THE  FORCE  BEHIND  NATURE. 

\The  Modern  Review,  January,  1880.] 

Some  thirty  years  ago,  I  enjoyed  opportunities  of  discussing  with 
John  Stuart  Mill  (whose  younger  brother  had  been  for  twelve 
months  an  inmate  of  my  house)  many  questions  of  philosophy  in 
which  we  both  felt  the  deepest  interest.  Among  these  was  the 
Doctrine  of  Causation  set  forth  in  his  recently  published  "  System 
of  Logic  :  " — "  We  may  define  the  cause  of  a  phenomenon  to  be 
"  the  antecedent,  or  the  concurrence  of  antecedents,  on  which  it 
•'is  invariably  and  unconditionally  consequent."  I  pointed  out 
to  my  friend  that  when  this  assemblage  of  antecedents  is  analyzed, 
it  is  uniformly  found  resolvable  into  two  categories,  which  may 
be  distinguished  as  the  dytiamical  and  the  material ;  the  former 
supplying  the  force  or  power  to  which  the  change  must  be  attri- 
buted, whilst  the  latter  affords  the  conditions  under  which  that 
power  is  exerted.  Thus,  I  urged,  when  a  man  falls  from  a  ladder 
because  (as  is  commonly  said)  of  the  breaking  of  the  rung  on 
which  his  foot  was  resting,  the  real  or  dynamical  cause  of  his  fall 
is  the  force  of  gravity,  or  attraction  of  the  earth,  which  pulls  him 
to  the  ground  when  his  foot  is  no  longer  supported ;  the  loss  of 
support  being  only  the  material  condition  or  collocation,  which 
allowed  the  force  previously  acting  as  pressure  on  the  rung,  to 
produce  the  downward  motion  of  the  man  who  stood  upon  it. 

To  this  Mr.  Mill's  reply  was,  that  the  distinction  is  one  of 
metaphysics,  not  of  logic.  I  ventured,  however,  to  press  on  him 
that  to  whichever  department  of  philosophy  this  point  is  to  be 
referred,  is  is  one  of  fundamental  importance ;    that,  assuming 


THE  FORCE  BEHIND  NATURE.  351 

experience  as  the  basis  of  our  knowledge,  we  recognize  the  down- 
ward tendency  of  every  body  heavier  than  air,  by  our  sense  of 
muscular  tension  in  hfting  it  from  the  ground,  or  in  resisting  its 
descent  towards  the  earth  ;  and  that  our  cognition  of  force 
through  this  form  of  sensation,  being  thus  quite  as  immediate  and 
direct  as  our  cognition  of  motion  through  the  visual  sense,  ought 
to  be  equally  taken  account  of. 

The  promulgation,  about  the  same  time,  of  the  doctrine  of 
the  "  Correlation  of  the  Physical  Forces  "  by  Professor  (now  Sir 
William)  Grove,  and  the  researches  of  Mr.  Joule  on  the  "Me- 
chanical Equivalent  of  Heat,"  seemed  to  me  to  bring  this  view  of 
dynamical  causation  into  yet  greater  importance;  by  showing 
that  what  is  true  of  that  form  of  force  which  produces  or  resists 
mechanical  (or  what  is  now  distinguished  as  jftolar)  motion,  may 
be  legitimately  extended  to  those  other  forms  which  are  mani- 
fested in  the  molecular  changes  that  express  themselves  in 
chemical  action,  or  impress  us  with  the  sensations  of  heat,  light, 
etc.  Partaking  of  the  general  ignorance  at  that  time  prevalent  in 
this  country  of  the  doctrine  of  "  Conservation  of  Energy,"  already 
promulgated  in  Germany  by  Mayer  and  Helmholtz,  I  myself 
endeavoured  to  carry  Professor  Grove's  principle  into  the  domain 
of  biology ;  by  showing  that  what  physiologists  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  call  vital  force,  may  be  regarded  as  having  the  same 
"correlation"  with  the  various  forms  of  physical  force  as  they 
have  with  each  other.*  And  in  the  introduction  to  the  fourth 
edition  of  my  "Human  Physiology"  (published  in  1853),  I  thus 
explicitly  defined  my  position  : — 

When  this  assemblage  of  antecedents  is  analyzed,  it  is  uni- 
formly found  that  they  may  be  resolved  into  two  categories, 
which  may  be  distinguished  as  the  dynamical  and  the  material, 
the  former  supplying  the  force  or  power  to  which  the  change 
must  be  attributed,  whilst  the  latter  afford  the  conditions  under 
which  that  power  is  exerted.  Thus  in  a  steam-engine  we  see 
the  dynamical  agency  of  heat  made  to  produce  mechanical 
power  by  the  mode  in  which  it  is  applied  :  first,  to  impart  a 
mutual  repulsion  to  the  particles  of  water ;  and  then,  by  means 

*  "  On  the  Mutual  Relations  of  the  Vital  and  Physical  Forces,"  in  Philos. 
Transact.,  1850. 


352  NATURE  AND  MAN 

of  that  mutual  repulsion,  to  give  motion  to  the  various  solid 
parts  of  which   the  machine  is  composed.     And  thus,  if  asked 
what  is  the  cause  of  the  movement  of  the  steam-engine,  we  dis- 
tinguish in  our  reply  between  the  dynamical  condition  supplied 
by  the  heat,  and  the  material  condition  (or  assemblage  of  con- 
ditions) afforded  by  the  "  collocation  "  of  the   boiler,  cylinder, 
piston,  valves,  etc.  ...   In  like  manner,  if  we  inquire  into  the 
cause  of  the  germination  of  a  seed — which  has  been  brought  to 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  after  remaining  dormant  through  having 
been  buried  deep  beneath  the  soil  for  (it  may  be)  thousands 
of  years — we   are   told  that   the  phenomenon    depends  upon 
warmth,  moisture,  and    oxygen ;    but  out  of  these  we  single 
warmth  as  the  dynamical  condition,  whilst  the  oxygen  and  the 
water,  with  the  organized  structure  of  the  seed  itself,  and  the 
organic  compounds  which  are  stored  up  in  its  substance,  con- 
stitute the  material. 
The  subsequent  general  recognition  by  the  scientific  world  of 
the  "correlation"  between  the  forces  of  nature  (under  whatever 
form  expressed)  has  thus  given  a  breadth  of  foundation  to  the 
dynamical  doctrine  of  causation  which  it  previously  lacked ;  and 
the  doctrine  having  been  afterwards  formally  developed  by  Pro- 
fessor Bain,  was  summarized  by  J.  S.  Mill  in  the  later  editions  of 
his  "  Logic,"  almost  in  the  very  terms  in  which  I  had  originally 
propounded  it  to  him  in  conversation,  and  had  publicly  expressed 
it  in  the    extract  just  cited  : — "  The   chief  practical  conclusion 
"  drawn  by  Professor  Bain,  bearing  on  causation,  is  that  we  must 
"  distinguish  in  the  assemblage  of  conditions  which  constitutes 
"  the  cause  of  a  phenomenon,  two  elements  :  one,  the  presence 
"  of  a  force ;  the  other,   the  collocation  or  position   of  objects 
"  which  is  required  in  order  that  the  force  may  undergo  the  par- 
"  ticular    transmutation    which    constitutes    the    phenomenon."  * 
Mr.  Mill  himself  still  preferred,  however,  to  express  the  principle 
in  terms    of  motion,   rather   than  in  terms   of  force: — "If  the 
"  effect,  or  any  part  of  the  effect,  to  be  accounted  for  consists  in 
"  putting  matter  in  motion,  then  any  of  the  objects  present  which 
"  has  lost  motion  has  contributed  to  the  effect ;  and  this  is  the 
"  true  meaning  of  the  proposition  that  the  cause  is  that  one  of 

*  "System  of  Logic"  (eighth  edition),  vol.  i.  p.  406. 


THE   FORCE  BEHIND   NATURE.  353 

"  the  antecedents  which  exerts  active  force."  As  this  mode  of 
expressing  the  facts  is  sanctioned  by  high  authorities  at  the 
present  time,  it  may  be  well  for  me  to  explain  more  fully  the 
basis  of  my  original  contention,  that  our  cognition  oi force  is  quite 
as  immediate  and  direct  as  our  cognition  of  motion  ;  in  fact  (as 
I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  prove),  even  more  fundamental,  inas- 
much as  our  cognition  of  matter  itself  is  in  great  degree  dependent 
upon  it. 

It  has  been  recently  well  said  that  "  all  true  science  involves 
"  both  the  knowledge  of  Nature  and  the  knowledge  of  Man ;  it 
"includes  the  study  of  mind,  as  well  as  of  matter.  A  philo- 
"  sopher  may  pursue  either,  but  he  can  have  no  complete  know- 
"  ledge  of  what  he  investigates,  without  borrowing  from  the  other 
"department  of  investigation."*  Many  of  the  nature-philo- 
sophers who  affirm  that  we  have  no  knowledge  of  anything  but 
the  matter  and  motion  which  lie  within  the  range  of  "  experience," 
show  themselves  very  imperfectly  acquainted  with  what  "ex- 
perience "  really  means ;  unhesitatingly  ranking  as  actual  objec- 
tive facts  their  own  mental  interpretations  of  the  sensory 
impressions  they  receive  from  external  objects.  Many  meta- 
physicians, on  the  other  hand,  have  reasoned  as  if  our  concern 
were  with  mental  operations  alone,  and  as  if  the  abstractions  in 
which  they  deal  had  an  existence  per  se,  without  any  relation  to 
the  phenomena  of  nature.  But  among  the  ablest  thinkers  of  the 
present  time,  there  seems  to  be  now  a  pretty  general  recognition 
of  the  necessity  for  the  replacement  of  the  abstract  definitions  of 
metaphysics — so  far,  at  least,  as  they  relate  to  the  external  world 
— by  psychological  expressions  of  the  modes  in  which  the  human 
ego  is  affected  by  its  changes.  Thus  the  ordinary  metaphysical 
definition  of  "  matter  "  is  that  which  possesses  "  extension."  But 
for  this  definition  to  convey  any  definite  idea  to  our  minds,  we 
must  know  what  "  extension "  means ;  and  this,  we  are  told,  is 
the  "  occupation  of  space."  Now,  the  conception  of  "  space,"  in 
the  opinion  of  most  psychologists,  is  ordinarily  derived  from  our 
interpretation  of  visual  sensations  ;  and  yet  these  may  be  alto- 
gether  deceptive.     When  we  look   at   a  window   from   a   short 

*  "Natural  Theo'iogy  of  the  Doctrine  of  the  Forces."     By  Professor  Ben- 
jamin Martin,  of  the  University  of  the  City  of  New  York. 


354  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

distance,  we  cannot  tell  by  the  use  of  our  eyes  alone  whether  the 
space  included  by  its  frame  is  void,  or  is  occupied  by  a  perfectly 
transparent  and  colourless  glass.  A  glass  globe  is  held  up  in 
front  of  it,  and  we  cannot  tell  by  looking  at  it  whether  it  is  empty, 
or  is  filled  with  pure  water  or  some  other  transparent  colourless 
liquid.  And  we  can  take  no  cognizance  by  our  vision  of  the 
atmosphere  which  surrounds  us,  unless  its  transparence  is  inter- 
fered with  by  mist  or  fog. — Clearly,  then,  our  visual  sense  cannot 
per  se  furnish  us  with  a  satisfactory  definition  of  matter.* 

Now  that  we  have  got  rid  of  the  fiction  of  "  imponderables," 
we  might  fall  back  on  a  definition  of  matter — in  use  before  that 
fiction  was  invented — as  that  which  possesses  "ponderosity"  or 
weight.  But  what  is  weight  ?  The  downward  tendency,  it  may 
be  replied,  in  virtue  of  which  all  unsupported  bodies  fall  to  the 
earth.  But  what  is  this  "  tendency  ?  "  We  might  see  any  number 
of  bodies  falling  to  the  ground,  and  might  frame  a  correct  law  of 
their  motion,  without  having  the  remotest  conception  of  their 
possessing  that  downward  pressure,  which  we  at  once  recognize 
when  we  take  a  lump  of  lead  or  iron  into  our  hands ;  and  it  is 
obviously  on  our  cognition  of  this  pressure,  that  our  idea  of 
weight  or  ponderosity  is  based.  Now  the  instrumentality  through 
which  we  take  cognizance  of  it  seems  to  me  to  be  threefold.  In 
i\-\Q  first  place,  we  have  the  sense  of  simple  pressure  on  the  tactile 
surface ;  as  when,  the  hand  passively  resting  on  a  table,  a  weight 
is  laid  upon  it.  Secondly,  we  recognize  it  by  the  sense  of  tension 
which  we  experience  when  a  weight  is  attached  to  a  pendent  limb, 
and  which  we  refer  to  the  muscles  and  ligaments  which  are  thus 
put  on  the  stretch  ;  or  when,  the  hand  resting  on  the  top  of  a 
cylinder  of  glass  placed  over  an  air-pump,  the  air  is  exhausted 
from  beneath,  so  as  to  make  us  feel  the  downward  "  pressure  of 

*  According  to  Professor  Bain,  the  conception  of  space  is  essentially  based 
on  the  sense  of  muscular  tension  which,  according  to  him,  we  experience  in 
the  ordinary  movements  of  our  eyes.  But  I  am  satisfied  that  this  is  physio- 
logically erroneous.  These  movements  are  ordinarily  guided,  as  Professor 
Alison  long  ago  contended,  and  as  Professor  Ilelmholtz  and  I  myself  have 
since  experimentally  proved,  by  the  visual,  not  by  the  muscular  sense  ;  and  it 
is  only  when  we  put  the  muscles  to  an  unusual  strain — as  when  our  visual  axes 
converge  on  an  object  brought  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  eyes,  or  when  we 
entirely  exclude  light  from  the  retina,  that  we  experience  any  sense  of  tension 
in  their  muscles. 


THE   FORCE  BEHIND   NATURE.  355 

the  atmosphere."  In  these  two  cases,  the  mind  is  the  passive 
recipient  of  the  sensory  impressions.  But,  thii-dly^  when  we 
determinately  hft  a  weight  or  hold  it  suspended  by  our  hands,  we 
experience,  in  addition  to  the  sense  of  pressure  and  the  sense  ot 
tension,  a  sense  of  effort^  which  we  recognize  as  an  immediate 
revelation  of  consciousness,  not  referrible  to  any  physical  im- 
pression, but  of  the  same  kind  as  that  which  we  experience  in 
a  purely  mental  act,  such  as  the  fixation  of  the  attention.  And  a 
little  consideration  will,  I  think,  make  it  clear  that  it  is  on  this 
"sense  of  effort"  in  resisting  downward  pressure,  that  our  cognition 
of  weight  is  essentially  based. 

For,  in  \}s\q^  first  place,  the  continuance  of  a  moderate  pressure  on 
the  cutaneous  surface,  like  other  sensory  impressions  that  become 
habitual,  soon  ceases  to  affect  us  sensorially  for  we  cognosce 
rather  the  changes  in  the  states  of  our  sense  organs,  than  the  states 
themselves.  Or,  again,  we  may  suffer  under  a  temporary  or  per- 
manent paralysis  of  the  cutaneous  sense,  that  may  prevent  our 
feeling  the  contact  of  the  body  we  are  lifting  or  supporting;  and 
yet,  recognizing  its  downward  pressure  in  other  ways,  we  can  put 
our  muscles  into  action  to  antagonize  it.  But,  secondly,  this 
paralysis  may  extend  to  the  muscular  sense,  so  that  the  feeling  of 
muscular  tension  is  wanting,  as  well  as  that  of  contact-pressure ; 
and  yet  none  the  less  can  a  weight  be  lifted  or  sustained  by  a 
conscious  effort,  provided  that  the  deficiency  of  the  guiding 
sensations  ordinarily  derived  from  the  muscle  itself  is  supplied  by 
the  sight.  A  woman  whose  arm  is  sensorially  but  not  motorially 
paralyzed,  can  hold  up  her  child  as  long  as  she  looks  at  it ;  and  a 
man  affected  with  the  like  paralysis  of  his  legs,  can  stand  and 
walk  while  looking  at  his  feet.  But,  thirdly,  since  the  mental 
sense  of  effort  is  experienced  in  every  determinate  exercise  of  our 
muscular  power,  and  is,  as  all  experience  teaches,  a  necessary 
condition  of  that  exercise  ;  since,  again,  it  is  proportioned  to  the 
exertion  we  put  forth,  and  continues  as  long  as  that  exertion  is 
sustained — it  is  in  this,  and  not  in  the  cutaneous  or  muscular 
impressions,  which  are  (so  to  speak)  accidental,  that  as  (it  seems  to 
me)  we  find  the  real  basis  of  our  cognition  of  the  "  ponderosity  " 
of  matter. 

But  "  ponderosity  "  cannot  be  considered  an  essential  property 
16 


356  NATURE  AND  MAN, 

of  matter,  being  merely  the  "accident"  of  the  earth's  attraction 
for  bodies  lying  within  its  range.     This  attraction  varies  with  the 
distance  of  a  body  from  the   centre  of  the  earth ;  and  a  body 
occupying  the  common  centre  of  gravity  of  the  earth  and  sun 
would  be  equally  drawn  towards  both,  and  would  consequently 
have   no    "  weight."      We   must,    therefore,   seek   a   satisfactory 
definition  of  matter  elsewhere  ;  and  we  find  the  clue  to  it  in  the 
consideration  that  the  sense  of  effort  we  experience  in  antagonizing 
the  downward  pressure  of  a  body,  is  but  a  particular  case  of  our 
more  general  cognition  of  resistance.     When  we  project  our  hand 
against  a  hard  and  fixed   solid   body,  our  consciousness  of  its 
resistance  to  our  pressure  is  exactly  that  which  we  experience 
when  we  try  to  raise  a  weight  that  we  have  not  strength  to  lift ; 
whilst  if  that  solid  be  either  yielding  in  its  parts  or  movable  as  a 
whole,  we  measure  its  resistance,  as  in  lifting  a  weight,  by  our 
sense  of  the  effort  necessary  to  overcome  it.     When  we  move  our 
hand  through  a  liquid,  we  are  conscious  of  a  resistance  to  its 
motion,  which  is  greater  or  less  according  to  the  "  viscosity "  of 
the  liquid.     And  when  we  move  our  open  hand  through  air  at 
rest,  we  are  still  conscious  of  a  resistance,  our  sense  of  it  being 
augmented  by  an  extension  of  the  surface  moved,  as  in  the  act  of 
fanning ;  whilst  if  the  air  is  in  motion,  we  feel  its  pressure  on  the 
sail  of  a  boat  by  the  "  pull"  of  the  sheet  we  hold  in  our  hand,  or 
on  the  sails  of  a  windmill  by  the  rotation  it  imparts,  the  force  of 
which  we  can  estimate  by  the  effort  we  must  put  forth  to  resist  it. 
Attenuate  any  kind  of  air  or  gas  as  we  may,  its  resistance  can  still 
be  made  apparent  by  the  like  communication  of  its  own  motion  to 
solid  bodies.     Thus,  in  Mr.  Crookes's  wonderful   radiometer,  a 
set  of  vanes  poised  on  a  pivot  within  a  globe  of  glass  exhausted 
to  a  millionth  of  its  ordinary  gaseous  contents,  is  whirled  round 
by   the   movement   excited   in    the   molecules   of    that   residual 
mUionth,  either  by  the  heat  of  the  radiant  beam  falling  on  the 
surface  of  the  globe,  or  by  the  passage  of  an  electric  current 
across  its  interior ;  and  the  mechanical  force  required  to  impart 
that  motion  can  be  measured  with  precision,  by  bringing  it  into 
comparison  with  some  other  force  (as  that  of  gravity)  of  which  we 
can  take  immediate  cognizance.     And  thus,  as  Herbert  Spencer 
remarks,  by  the  decomposition  of  our  knowledge  of  any  form  of 


THE   FORCE  BEHIND   NATURE,  357 

matter  into  simpler  and  simpler  components,  we  must  come  at 
last  to  the  simplest,  to  the  ultimate  material,  to  the  substratum ; 
and  this  we  find  in  the  impression  of  resistance  we  receive  through 
what  we  may  call  our  "force-sense."  * 

Such  being  the  teachings  alike  of  general  and  of  scientific 
experience,  I  cannot  but  feel  surprised  that  any  persons  claiming 
the  title  of  philosophers  should  affirm  that  we  know  nothing  except 
matter  and  motion,  and  that  force  is  a  creation  of  our  own 
imagination.  One  might  suppose  such  persons  to  be  either 
destitute  of  the  "force-sense,"  or  to  have  based  their  philo- 
sophical system  upon  the  movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies 
which  they  can  only  see,  instead  of  upon  "those  mundane  phe- 
nomena in  the  cognition  of  which  they  can  bring  their  hands 
to  the  assistance  of  their  eyes.  How  essential  this  assistance 
is  to  the  formation  of  correct  conceptions  of  the  solid  forms  and 
relative  positions  of  the  objects  around  us,  is  known  to  every  one 
who  has  studied  the  physiology  of  the  senses.  Should  we  not 
think  it  absurd  on  the  part  of  any  one  who  possesses  in  the  use  of 
his  hands  the  means  of  detecting  the  error  of  his  visual  percep- 
tions, if  he  were  to  base  a  superstructure  of  reasoning — still  more 
to  found  a  whole  system  of  philosophy — upon  the  latter  alone .? 
Yet  such  appears  to  me  to  be  the  position  of  those  who  deny  our 
direct  cognition  of  force. 

Let  us  suppose  (if  possible)  a  man  who  had  enjoyed  the  full 
use  of  his  eyes,  but  whose  limbs  had  been  completely  paralyzed 
from  infancy,  looking  on  at  a  game  of  billiards.  He  would  see  a 
succession  of  motions  connected  by  regular  sequence — the  motion 
of  the  arm  of  the  player,  the  stroke  of  the  cue,  the  roll  of  the  ball, 
its  contact  with  another  ball,  the  movement  of  the  second  ball,  the 
change  of  direction  or  the  entire  stop  of  the  first,  the  rebound  of 
balls  from  the  cushion  in  altered  directions,  and  so  on.  And  he 
might  frame  a  statement  in  "  terms  of  motion  "  of  all  that  passes 
before  his  eyes,  thinking  this  all  he  can  know. — But  suppose  the 
limbs  of  such  a  man  to  be  suddenly  endowed  with  the  ordinary 

*  Herbert  Spencer  considers  the  cognition  of  resistance  to  be  essentially 
derived  from  the  sense  of  muscuLar  tension.  I  have  already  expressed  my 
reason  for  now  dissenting  from  this  view,  which  I  myself  formerly  held. 


358  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

powers  of  sensation  and  movement ;  let  him  take  the  cue  into  his 
hands  and  himself  strike  the  ball ;  let  him  hold  his  hand  on  the 
table  so  that  the  rolling  ball  shall  strike  it  and  make  him  feel  its  im- 
pact ;  let  him  hold  the  second  ball  and  feel  the  shock  imparted  to 
it  by  the  stroke  of  the  first.  Can  any  one  deny  that  he  would  thus 
acquire  a  dynamical  conception  linking  together  the  whole  succes- 
sion of  phenomena,  which  he  was  previously  quite  incapable  of  form- 
ing ;  that  this  dynamical  conception  is  quite  as  directly  based  upon 
the  experience  derived  through  his  "  force-sense,"  as  his  kinetic 
expression  was  upon  that  derived  through  his  visual  sense ;  and  that 
this  cognition  of  the  force  producing  the  motions  is,  therefore, 
fully  as  much  entitled  to  be  introduced  into  a  logical  doctrine 
of  causation,  as  the  visual  cognition  of  the  motions  themselves  ? 
If  it  be  replied  that  we  have  no  proof  that  the  movement  of  the 
ball  we  strike  is  produced  by  the  force  which  we  consciously  exert 
in  striking  it,  I  simply  reply  that  we  have  as  much  proof  of  it  as 
we  have  of  anything  which  rests  upon  universal  experience,  and 
which  we  can  verify  experimentally  as  often  as  we  choose  to  try — 
quite  as  much  as  we  have  of  the  existence  of  anything  whatever 
that  is  external  to  ourselves. 

Let  us  take,  again,  the  simple  case  of  magnetic  attraction.  A 
man  who  knows  nothing  of  magnetism  sees  a  piece  of  iron 
brought  within  a  certain  distance  of  what  looks  like  a  horse-shoe 
bar  of  the  same  metal,  suddenly  jump  towards  its  approximated 
ends;  and  might,  as  before,  correctly  express  the  fact  in  "terms 
of  motion."  But  let  him  take  the  piece  of  iron  in  his  hands,  so 
as  to  feel  the  "pull"  upon  it  when  brought  sufficiently  near  the 
magnet,  and  he  then  becomes  conscious,  through  his  force-sense, 
of  a  power  of  which  he  was  before  utterly  ignorant. 

Thus,  as  it  seems  to  me,  an  analysis  of  those  psychical  experi- 
ences, on  which  all  our  cognitions  of  the  physical  universe  around 
us  are  really  based,  irresistibly  lands  us  in  the  conclusion  that,  as 
Herbert  Spencer  expresses  it,  "  All  the  sensations  through  which 
"  the  external  world  is  known  to  us,  are  explicable  by  us  only  as 
"resulting  from  certain  forms  of  force;"  the  direct  derivation  of 
our  conception  of  force  from  cur  own  experience  of  muscular 
tension  (or  as  I  should  myself  say,  from  our  own  sense  of  effort) 
being   "a  fact  which  no  metaphysical  quibbling  can  set  aside." 


THE   FORCE   BEHIND  NATURE-.  359 

In  the  words  of  the  able  American  writer  I  have  already  quoted, 
"The  conception  of  force  is  one  of  those  universal  ideas  which 
"  belong  of  necessity  to  the  intellectual  furniture  of  every  human 
"  mind."  By  no  one  has  the  principle  for  which  I  am  contending, 
been  more  clearly  and  more  authoritatively  expressed  than  by  Sir 
John  Herschel,  a  philosopher  who  united  to  his  wonderful  grasp 
of  Nature-phenomena  a  profound  insight  into  the  action  of  the 
mind  of  man  in  the  interpretation  of  them  : — 

"  Whatever  attempts  have  been  made  by  metaphysical  writers 
"  to  reason  away  the  connection  of  cause  and  effect,  and  fritter 
"it  down  into  the  unsatisfactory  relation  of  habitual  [uncon- 
"  ditional]  sequence,  it  is  certain  that  the  conception  of  some 
"  more  real  and  intimate  connection  is  quite  as  strongly  impressed 
"upon  the  human  mind  as  that  of  the  existence  of  an  external 
"world,  the  vindication  of  whose  reality  has,  strange  to  say,  been 
"  regarded  as  an  achievement  of  no  common  merit  in  the  annals 
"of  this  branch  of  philosophy.  It  is  our  own  immediate  con- 
"  sciousness  of  ejfort,  when  we  exert  force  to  put  matter  in 
"  motion  or  to  oppose  and  neutralize  force,  which  gives  us  this 
"internal  conviction  oi  power  and  causation,  so  far  as  it  relates 
"  to  the  material  world." — Treatise  on  "  Astronomy  "  in  Lardner's 
Cydopcedia,  p.  232. 

Man's  position  as  the  "  Interpreter  of  Nature "  may  be  not 
inaptly  likened  (as  it  seems  to  me)  to  that  of  an  intelligent 
observer  of  the  working  of  a  cotton-factory,  with  whose  mechan- 
ical arrangements  he  is  entirely  unacquainted,  and  of  whose 
moving  power  he  knows  nothing  whatever.  He  is  taken  into 
a  vast  apartment,*  in  which  he  is  at  first  utterly  bewildered  by 
the  number  and  variety  of  the  movements  going  on  around  him ; 
but,  by  directing  his  attention  to  the  several  machines,  seriatim, 
he  is  able  to  arrive  at  a  classification  of  them,  according  to  the 
kind  of  ivork  which  each  does.  Thus  he  finds  one  set  carding 
the  cotton-wool  supplied  to  it,  so  that  its  confused  tangle  gives 
place  to  a  parallel  laying  of  the  fibres.  He  would  see  another 
taking  up  the  bundles  of  carded  wool,  and  drawing  them  out 

*  In  one  of  the  flax-spinning  mills  belonging  to  the  Marshalls  of  Leeds, 
the  whole  of  the  work  is  done  on  one  floor,  covering  (I  believe)  two  acres  of 
ground,  instead  of  in  the  usual  building  of  several  stories. 


36o  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

(after  repeated  doublings  to  secure  uniformity)  into  a  long  soft 
cord.  This  cord  he  would  then  trace  into  the  roving  machine, 
which,  by  a  continuation  of  the  drawing  process,  further  reduces 
its  thickness,  at  the  same  time  giving  it  a  slight  twist  to  increase 
its  tenacity,  so  that  it  admits  of  being  then  wound  upon  bobbins. 
Thence  he  would  trace  the  cord  into  the  spintmig  machine,  which 
at  the  same  time  stretches  and  twists  the  cord,  producing  from 
it  a  yarn  whose  fineness  might  vary  considerably  in  different 
machines.  Finally,  he  would  see  the  spun  yarn  carried,  some 
as  weft  and  some  as  woof,  into  the  power-loom,  from  which  it 
emerges  as  woven  cloth — the  final  resultant  of  the  whole  series 
of  operations. 

Concentrating  now  his  attention  upon  any  one  of  these 
machines,  he  studies  its  wheels,  levers,  and  other  moving  parts, 
and  tries  to  comprehend  their  several  actions  and  the  bearing 
of  these  upon  each  other.  By  long  and  scrutinizing  observation 
he  masters  the  whole  series  of  sequences,  and  traces  the  distri- 
bution of  motion  from  a  single  large  axis,  through  the  hundreds 
(it  may  be)  of  separate  pieces  of  the  machine  directly  or  indirectly 
connected  with  it;  and  he  might  thus  frame  a  description  of  the 
working  of  the  machine,  which  might  be  perfectly  correct  so  far 
as  it  goes,  and  which  yet  would  be  defective  in  one  most  essential 
particular — the  statement  of  the  force  or  power  by  which  it  is 
moved.  For,  so  far  as  mere  visual  observation  could  teach  him, 
the  machine  might  be  self-moving ;  and  he  might  thus  attribute 
to  each  kind  an  inherent  power  of  carding,  roving,  drawing, 
spinning,  or  weaving,  as  the  case  might  be. 

Carrying  his  observations  further,  and  noticing  that  one  or 
another  of  these  machines  comes  to  a  standstill,  but  resumes  its 
motion  after  an  interval,  he  may  include  this  occasional  suspension 
also  in  his  general  expression ;  but,  perplexed  by  the  want  of  any 
regularity  in  its  intervals,  he  will  seek  some  further  explanation. 
Continuing  his  patient  watch,  he  will  see  that  the  stoppage  of  the 
machine  follows  the  pulling  of  a  handle  by  the  man  in  attendance 
upon  it,  and  that  when  the  handle  is  pulled  the  other  way,  the 
machine  goes  on  again ;  and  thus  he  will  be  led  to  introduce  a 
certain  position  of  this  handle  as  one  of  the  antecedent  conditions 
of  the  machine's  action.     Still  pursuing  his  inquiries,  he  finds  out 


THE   FORCE  BEHIND  NATURE.  361 

that  the  axes  of  the  several  machines  are  all  in  mechanical  rela- 
tion with  one  great  longitudinal  shaft,  being  connected  with  it 
either  by  continuous  bands  passing  round  pulleys,  or  by  trains 
of  wheelwork  :  and  at  last  he  discovers  the  important  fact,  that 
the  movement  of  the  handle  which  stops  the  machine  breaks  the 
continuity  of  that  relation,  shifting  a  strap  from  a  "fast"  to  a 
"loose"  pulley,  or  throwing  the  wheelwork  "out  of  gear;"  while 
the  converse  movement,  which  restores  that  continuity,  is  followed 
by  the  renewed  action  of  the  machine,  which  goes  on  until  the 
continuity  is  again  broken.  Thus  he  will  be  led  to  regard  its 
maintenance  as  essential  to  the  working  of  the  machine ;  but 
nothing  that  he  has  yet  learned  explains  to  him  why  it  is  essential. 
He  has  only  got  at  the  material  collocaiioti  which  his  educated 
vision  enables  him  to  recognize ;  and  for  anything  he  knows  to 
the  contrary,  the  change  in  that  collocation  may  be  in  itself 
adequate  to  determine  the  result. 

But  let  him  lay  hold  of  the  band  which  stretches  between  the 
main  shaft  and  the  axis  of  one  machine,  or  attempt  to  stay  with 
his  hand  the  rotation  of  the  train  of  wheels  which  connects  it  with 
another, — he  then  at  once  becomes  conscious,  through  his  "force- 
sense,"  of  the  power  which  the  band  or  the  wheelwork  is  the 
instrument  of  conveying;  and  as  he  finds  that  the  "pull"  upon 
his  hand  is  just  the  same  whether  the  machine  is  in  motion  or 
not,  provided  that  the  band  or  wheel  remains  in  mechanical 
connection  with  the  main  shaft,  he  comes  to  the  conviction  that 
the  source  of  the  power  is  in  the  shaft,  and  that,  so  far  from  any 
one  of  the  machines  having  an  inherent  power  of  movement,  its 
motion  entirely  depends  upon  the  force  supplied  to  it  from  the 
shaft.  And  when,  under  the  guidance  of  this  conception,  he 
again  examines  the  working  of  the  several  kinds  of  machine,  he 
finds  that  while  the  p07ver  is  the  same  for  all,  the  diversity  in 
their  respective  products  is  traceable  to  the  diversity  in  their 
^;onstruction— that  is,  to  the  material  collocaiions  through  which 
the  one  moving  force  exerts  itself  in  action. 

But  having  thus  acquired  the  notion  of  moving  po7ver,  and 
having  satisfied  himself  of  the  derivation  of  the  force  that  gives 
motion  to  each  of  the  entire  aggregate  of  machines,  from  one 
main   shaft,  our  inquirer  finds  himself  again  posed.     Has  this 


362  NATURE  AND  MAN, 

shaft  itself  an  inherent  power  of  motion  ;  or  does  it  derive  that 
power  from  any  ulterior  source?  He  sees  the  shaft  apparently 
terminate  in  the  two  end-walls  of  the  building ;  and,  finding  no 
evidence  of  its  connection  with  anything  else,  he  may  feel  himself 
drawn  towards  the  conclusion  that  it  moves  of  itself— \.ha.i  is,  by 
the  "potency"  of  its  own  material  constitution.  But  before 
adopting  this  rationale,  he  sees  all  the  machines  stop  at  once, 
and  finds  that  the  shaft  also  has  ceased  to  revolve.  Here  is  a 
new  and  starding  phenomenon.  After  pondering  on  it  for  an 
hour,  and  carefully  looking  out  for  an  explanation,  he  sees  the 
shaft  and  its  connected  machines  resume  their  motion,  and  yet 
is  certain  that  no  agency  visible  to  him  has  had  any  concern  in 
that  renewal.  By  continued  watching,  he  finds  this  suspension 
and  renewal  to  be  periodical,  so  that  he  can  frame  a  law  that 
shall  express  them  in  terms  of  time.  Thus  he  might  give  a 
complete  phenomenal  account  of  the  action  of  the  shaft,  which 
should  be  perfectly  consistent  with  the  assumption  of  its  "  inherent 
potency,"  and  which  might  be  sufficiently  satisfactory  to  his  mind 
to  justify  him  in  believing  that  there  is  no  more  to  be  learned 
about  it.  But  not  wishing  to  leave  anything  uninvestigated,  he 
goes  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  wall.  There  he  finds  that  one 
end  of  the  shaft  comes  through  it,  and  is  in  mechanical  connection 
with  either  a  steam-engine  or  a  water-wheel ;  and  by  watching 
what  occurs  when  its  motion  is  checked  and  renewed,  he  sees 
that  the  Engineer  shuts  off,  or  turns  on,  either  the  steam  generated 
in  the  boiler  of  the  steam-engine,  or  the  descending  water  whose 
motion  drives  the  wheel. 

I  shall  not  weary  the  patience  of  such  readers  as  may  have 
followed  me  thus  far,  by  tracing  out  in  like  detail  the  further  steps 
of  the  inquiry ;  but  shall  land  them  in  the  final  conclusion  now 
accepted  by  every  man  of  science — that  the  power  exerted  in  both 
these  cases  is  drawn  from  solar  radiation  :  the  fall  of  the  water 
which  gives  motion  to  the  water-wheel,  being  merely  the  return 
of  that  which  has  been  pumped  up  as  vapour  by  the  sun's  heat; 
whilst  the  combustion  of  coal  from  which  steam-power  is  derived, 
reproduces,  as  active  force  or  "  energy,"  the  sunshine  that  exerted 
itself  during  the  carboniferous  period  in  dissociating  carbonic  acid 
and  water  into  the  hydrocarbons  of  coal  and  the  oxygen  of  the 


THE   FORCE   BEHIND   NATURE.  363 

atmosphere,  whose  recombination  gives  forth  heat  and  light  And 
if  we  look  still  further  back  for  the  source  of  the  sun's  radiant 
energy,  we  should  find  it,  perhaps,  in  the  progressive  consolidation 
of  the  primeval  "  fire-mist " — nebular  matter. 

But  whence  nebular  matter?  And  whence  the  force  which 
draws  its  particles  together,  and  which  manifests  itself  as  light 
and  heat  during  their  consolidation  ?  Here  we  come  to  a  wall, 
to  the  other  side  of  which  we  seem  at  present  to  have  no  access. 

But  is  there  no  other  side  ?  Does  not  the  whole  course  of  the 
preceding  inquiry  show  the  unsatisfaction  (if  I  may  revive  an 
obsolete  word)  of  resting  in  any  inherent  "potency"  of  matter 
as  the  ultima  ratio  of  the  existing  kosmos  ?  If  we  think  the  man 
foolish  who  supposes  the  main  shaft  of  a  cotton  mill  to  turn  oj 
itself,  merely  because  he  sees  it  apparently  end  in  a  wall  which 
conceals  from  him  the  source  of  its  motive  power,  are  we  not 
really  chargeable  with  the  like  folly  if  we  attribute  sell-motion  to 
the  ultimate  molecules  of  matter,  merely  because  the  power  that 
moves  them  is  hid  from  our  sight?  The  mere  physicist  may  see 
no  possible  way  further.  But  there  is  a  philosophy  which  has 
fully  as  true  and  as  broad  a  basis  in  man's  psychical  experience, 
as  can  be  claimed  for  the  fabric  of  physical  science  ;  and  in  the 
admirable  words  of  the  great  master  I  have  already  quoted  (Sir 
John  Herschell,  in  his  Familiar  Lectures  on  Scientific  Subjects, 
p.  460),  I  shall  sum  up  an  argument  which  this  paper  is  intended 
rather  to  illustrate  and  enforce  by  an  appeal  to  the  familiar  facts 
of  consciousness,  than  to  present  in  strict  logical  form  : — 

*'  In  the  mental  sense  of  effort,  clear  to  the  apprehension  of 
'*  every  one  who  has  ever  performed  a  voluntary  act,  which  is  pre- 
"sent  at  the  instant  when  the  determination  to  do  a  thing  is 
"carried  out  into  the  act  of  doing  it,  we  have  a  consciousness  of 
"  immediate  and  personal  causation  which  cannot  be  disputed  or 
"ignored.  And  when  we  see  the  same  kind  of  act  performed  by 
"  another,  we  never  hesitate  in  assuming  for  him  that  conscious- 
"ness  which  we  recognize  in  ourselves  ;  and  in  this  case  we  can 
"verify  our  conclusion  by  oral  communication."  "In  the  only 
"case  in  which  we  are  admitted  into  any  personal  knowledge  of 
"  the  origin  of  force,  we  find  it  connected  (possibly  by  intermediate 
"Unks  untraceable  by  our  faculties,  yet  indisputably  cotmected) 


364  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

"with  volition,  and  by  inevitable  consequence,  with  motive,  with 
'■'■intellect,  and  with  all  those  attributes  of  mind  in  which  personality 
"  consists." 

As  a  physiologist,  I  most  fully  recognize  the  fact  that  the 
physical  force  exerted  by  the  body  of  man  is  not  generated  de  novo 
by  his  will,  but  is  derived  from  the  oxidation  of  the  constituents 
of  his  food.  But  holding  it  as  equally  certain,  because  the  fact  is 
capable  of  verification  by  every  one  as  often  as  he  chooses  to  make 
tlie  experiment,  that,  in  the  performance  of  every  volitional  move- 
ment, that  physical  force  is  put  in  action,  directed,  and  controlled, 
by  the  individual  personality  or  Ego,  I  deem  it  just  as  absurd  and 
illogical  to  affirm  that  there  is  no  place  for  a  God  in  Nature, 
originating,  directing,  and  controlling  its  forces  by  his  will,  as  it 
would  be  to  assert  that  there  is  no  place  in  Man's  body  for  his 
conscious  Mind. 


XIII. 
NATURE  AND   LAW. 

\The  Modem  Review,  October,   1880.] 

"The  laws  of  light  and  gravitation,"  wrote  Mr.  Atkinson  to 
Harriet  Martineau  thirty  years  ago,  "  extend  over  the  universe, 
*'  and  explain  whole  classes  of  phenomena  ; "  and  this  "  explana- 
tion," according  to  the  same  writer,  is  all-sufficient,  "  philosophy 
*'  finding  no  God  in  Nature,  nor  seeing  the  want  of  any."  The 
"advanced"  philosophy  of  the  present  time  goes  still  further; 
asserting  that  as  the  progress  of  science  now  places  it  beyond 
doubt  that  all  the  phenomena  of  Nature — physical,  biological,  and 
mental — are  but  manifestations  of  certain  fundamental  "  properties 
"  of  matter,"  acting  in  accordance  with  fixed  laws,  "  there  is  no 
"room  for  a  God  in  Nature."  And  scientific  thinkers  who  do 
not  accept  this  as  the  conclusion  obviously  deducible  from  their 
recognition  of  the  universality  of  the  "reign  of  law,"  are  branded 
as  either  illogical  thinkers,  or  as  cowardly  adherents  of  a  bygone 
superstition — men  who  are  either  deficient  in  the  power  to  reason 
out  the  conclusions  to  which  their  own  premises  necessarily  lead 
or  have  not  the  courage  to  face  them. 

There  can  be  no  question  of  the  influence  that  is  being  exerted 
by  the  reiteration  of  these  assertions  on  the  intelligent  thought  of 
the  younger  generation.  Over  and  over  again  has  it  been  pointed 
out  with  truth,  that  whenever  science  and  theology  have  come  into 
conflict,  theology  has  had  in  the  end  to  go  to  the  wall.  The 
Copernican  system  of  astronomy  has  established  itself  in  spite  of 
the  thunders  of  the  Vatican.     The  geological  interpretation  of  the 


366  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

history  of  the  earth  has  taken  the  place  of  the  Mosaic  Cosmogony 
in  the  current  behef  of  educated  men,  notwithstanding  all  the 
denunciations  of  theological  orthodoxy.  Any  one  who  should 
now  maintain  the  universality  of  the  Noachian  Deluge,  to  doubt 
which  was  once  to  peril  one's  salvation,  would  be  laughed  at  as  an 
ignoramus.  The  antiquity  of  man,  which  no  more  than  twenty 
years  ago  was  repudiated  as  a  dangerous  heresy,  has  already 
passed  beyond  the  region  of  discussion.  And  so,  it  is  affirm&J, 
as  the  doctrine  of  evolution  has  now  established  itself  in  the  minds 
of  all  competent  judges  as  an  indisputable  verity,  science — which 
formerly  attacked  and  mastered  only  the  outworks  of  theology — 
will  be  assuredly  no  less  successful  in  its  assault  on  the  citadel 
itself  The  "  creation  "  of  the  Old  Revelation  will  fall  before  the 
"  evolution  "  of  the  New  ;  the  notion  of  power  will  be  superseded 
by  that  of  law;  the  evidences  of  "design"  will  be  disposed  of  by 
the  fact  of  "  natural  selection ; "  and  the  "potencies"  of  matter 
will  henceforth  be  the  only  subjects  about  which  sensible  men 
will  concern  themselves. 

Now  I  fully  accept  it  as  the  highest  work  of  the  man  of 
science,  whatever  his  department  of  study,  to  seek  out  those 
"laws"  which  express  the  order  of  Nature.  But  I  affirm  that 
even  supposing  him  to  have  so  completely  succeeded  in  his 
search,  as  to  be  able  to  formulate  a  general  statement  in  which 
they  could  be  all  embodied,  and  from  which  all  the  phenomena 
of  the  universe  could  be  traced  out  deductively,  the  question 
of  the  cause  of  those  phenomena  would  be  left  just  where  it 
was ;  the  "  law "  simply  expressing  the  order  and  physical  con- 
ditions of  their  concurrence,  and  giving  no  real  "explanation"  of 
them. 

Much  of  what  seems  to  me  a  prevalent  confusion  of  thought 
on  this  subject — nothing  being  more  common  than  to  speak  of 
laws  as  "  governing  "  or  "  regulating  "  phenomena,  and  to  affirm 
that  phenomena  are  sufficiently  "accounted  for"  when  they  can 
be  shown  to  be  "consequences"  of  a  law — seems  to  me  to  be 
traceable  to  the  double  sense  in  which  the  word  "  law  "  is  habitu- 
ally used.  And  the  purpose  of  my  present  paper  will  be  to  help 
my  readers  to  "  think  themselves  clear "  upon  this  matter ;  by 
showing  the  fundamental  difference  between  the  kgal  and  the 


NATURE   AND  LAW.  3^7 

strictly  scientific  conception  of  law,  and  by  examining  into  the 
theological  bearing  of  each.  And  if,  in  so  doing,  I  go  over 
ground  which  has  been  trodden  until  it  seems  perfectly  familiar, 
and  use  illustrations  that  may  be  thought  to  have  been  worn  to 
triteness,  it  is  because  I  believe  that  the  best  lessons  are  often  to 
be  drawn  from  the  most  familiar  things,  //  they  be  looked  at  from 
the  rigJit  point  of  view. 

I.   When  we   speak  of  the  "  laws "  of  a  State,  we  mean  the 
rules  laid  down  by  the  Governing  Power  of  that  State  for  the 
conduct  of  its  members;  which  rules,  its  Executive  is  charged 
with  enforcing  by  the  power  it  wields.     But  there  may  be  laws 
which  a  Government  regards  as  obsolete,  and  thinks  it  inexpedient 
to  enforce  (as  is  the  case  with  many  of  those  still  inscribed  on  our 
Statute-book) ;  or  others  of  recent  enactment,  which  a  Govern- 
ment may  be  deterred  from  carrying  into  execution  by  the  antago- 
nistic force  of  public  opinion  (as  happened  many  times  in  regard 
to  the  "  fugitive  slave  law  "  of  the  United  States).     Or,  again,  the 
Executive  may  itself  be  paralyzed  by  a  panic,  which  allows  mob- 
force  for  the  time  to  reign  supreme  (as  in  the  riots  of  London  in 
1780,  and  the  riots  of  Bristol  in   1831);  or  may  be  overthrown 
by  a  Revolution  which  subverts  its  authority,  leaving  anarchy  to 
prevail   until   a  new   Government    shall    have    been   constituted. 
Thus  it  is  clear  that  state-made  laws  have  no  coercive  action  in 
themselves ;  that  action  being  entirely  dependent  upon  the  enforce- 
ment of  them  by  the  governing  power,  of  whose  will  they  are  to 
be  regarded  as  the  expressions.     The  very  term  "  government," 
indeed,  carries  with  it  the  idea  of  a  governing  power  on  the  one 
hand,  and  of  a  people  controlled  by  it  on  the  other.     And  when 
we  speak  of  a  State  as  "  governed  by  law,"  we  mean  no  more  than 
that  its  controlling  Power  "  governs  according  to  law ; "   or,  in 
other  words,  that  it  acts — not  on  the  arbitrary  dictation  of  its  own 
will — but  in  accordance  with  certain  fixed  and  determinate  rules, 
in  which  that  will  is  expressed,  and  within  which  it  limits    its 
exercise. 

It  is  thus  that  when  we  pass  from  the  sphere  of  human 
government  to  that  of  the  Divine,  and  speak  of  the  universe 
as  "  governed  "  by  the  "  laws  "  of  a  supreme  Ruler,  we  mean  that 
his  power  is  exerted,  not  like  that  of  an  arbitrary  potentate  who 


368  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

changes  his  course  of  action  as  his  own  caprice  or  passion  may 
direct,  but  like  that  of  a  benevolent  sovereign  whose  rule  is  in 
uniform  and  orderly  conformity  with  certain  fixed  principles, 
originally  determined  as  conducive  to  the  welfare  and  happiness 
of  his  people. 

Such,  in  the  earlier  stages  of  scientific  inquiry,  when  the  uni- 
formities of  Nature  first  attracted  the  attention  of  thoughtful  men, 
seems  to  have  been  the  aspect  under  which  the  "laws"  that 
express  them  were  generally  regarded.  While  the  Hebrew  mind, 
nursed  in  the  idea  of  an  anthropomorphic  theocracy,  regarded  all 
the  phenomena  of  the  universe  as  the  immediate  expressions  of  the 
personal  will  of  its  national  deity,  and,  so  far  from  feeling  any 
incredulity  as  to  "supernatural"  or  apparently  disorderly  occur- 
rences, expected  them  as  .the  appropriate  attestations  of  his 
authority,  the  philosophers  of  Greece  and  Rome,  who  gave  them- 
selves rather  to  the  study  of  the  order  of  Nature,  and  were  strongly 
impressed  by  its  uniformities,  for  the  most  part  saw  in  them  (as 
expressed  by  the  application  of  the  word  kosmos,  originally 
meaning  "orderly  arrangement,"  to  designate  the  universe)  the 
manifestations  of  supreme  designing  and  controlling  minds.* 
And  among  those  who,  nearer  our  own  time,  most  advanced  our 
knowledge  of  that  order,  the  same  conception  of  the  nature  of  the 
"laws"  expressive  of  it  continued  to  prevail.  Thus  it  is  recorded 
of  Kepler,  that  when,  after  a  life  devoted  to  the  search,  he  had 
discovered  the  three  laws  of  planetary  motion  which  have  made 
his  name  immortal,  he  spoke  with  devout  gratitude  of  the  ample 
reward  he  had  received  for  his  labours,  in  having  been  thus  per- 
mitted "  to  think  the  thoughts  of  God."  And  no  one  who  has 
followed  the  course  of  Newton's  discoveries  and  his  own  mode  of 
viewing  them,  can  doubt  that  this  idea  was  alike  dominant  in  his 
mind.  For  when  charged  by  some  of  the  theologians  of  his  time 
with  (as  they  affirmed)  superseding  the  Divine  agency  in  the  pro- 
duction of  the  movements  of  the  planetary  system,  by  attributing 
them  to  hypothetical  forces  of  his  own  creation,  he  defended 
himself  by  showing  that  his  "Principia"  simply  aimed  to  express 
the  mode  in  which  that  agency  exerts  itself. 

*  Every  reader  of  Cicero's  treatise  "De  Natura  Deorum"  will  recollect 
this  to  be  its  "  argument." 


NATURE  AND  LAW,  369 

II.  But  as  the  scientific  conception  of  "law,"  based  on  the 
discoveries  of  Kepler  and  Newton,  extended  itself  into  every 
department  of  nature,  and  one  class  of  her  phenomena  after 
another  was  brought  within  its  range,  the  idea  of  Divine  govern- 
ment, originally  embodied  in  the  phrase  "laws  of  nature," 
dropped  away;  the  study  of  "final  causes"  was  found  to  hamper, 
instead  of  guiding,  scientific  research;  and  the  more  thoroughly 
the  pursuit  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  nature  has  been  freed  from 
theological  trammels,  the  more  successful  that  pursuit  has  been. 
While,  however,  the  idea  of  "  government "  by  a  God  is  now 
excluded,  by  general  consent,  from  the  domain  of  science,  the 
notion  of  "  government "  by  law  has  taken  its  place,  not  only  in 
popular  thought,  but  in  the  minds  of  many  who  claim  the  right 
to  lead  it ;  and  it  is  the  vaUdity  of  this  notion  which  I  have  now 
to  call  in  question. 

We  may,  I  think,  best  begin  our  inquiry  into  what  a  "  law  of 
nature  "  really  means,  by  tracing  historically  the  p)rogress  of  our 
knowledge  of  that  one,  whose  simplicity  of  form  allows  it  to  be 
stated  with  the  greatest  clearness  and  precision,  and  whose  uni- 
versality seems  to  have  been  demonstrated  beyond  all  question. 
I  mean,  of  course,  the  law  of  gravitation,  as  enunciated  by  Newton  ; 
which  affirms  that  "  all  masses  of  matter  attract  one  another  with 
"  forces  directly  proportional  to  their  masses,  and  inversely  pro- 
"  portional  to  the  squares  of  their  distances."  As  I  pointed  out  in 
my  former  paper,  what  is  meant  by  "  force,"  in  this  and  similar 
expressions,  is  the  "  pull "  of  which  we  ourselves  become  sensible 
in  any  attempt  we  make  to  resist  its  action — as  when  we  try  to 
hold  back  a  piece  of  iron  that  is  being  drawn  towards  a  powerful 
magnet. 

That  all  solid  or  liquid  bodies  fall  to  the  ground  if  unsupported, 
must  have  been  among  the  very  earliest  of  the  generalized 
experiences  of  the  human  race  ;  and  the  downward  "  pull  "  felt  by 
every  one  who  held  such  bodies  in  his  hand,  justified  his  attribut- 
ing their  fall,  when  let  go,  to  the  "  attraction  "  exerted  upon  them 
by  the  earth.  The  difference  upon  the  "  pulls  "  exerted  by  stones 
of  different  sizes,  would  give  the  notion  of  differences  of  iveight ; 
and  certain  standards   being  adopted,  the  balance  applied  the 


370  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

means  of  more  exactly  determining  the  downward  "  pull "  of  a  mass, 
than  any  personal  estimate  of  it  could  afford.  Differences  of 
weight  being  thus  determined  between  masses  of  the  same  size, 
but  of  different  kinds  of  matter— as,  for  instance,  between  a  cube 
of  lead  and  a  cube  of  stone,  or  between  a  cubic  vessel  of  water 
and  a  block  of  wood  of  the  same  dimensions — gave  the  notion  of 
differences  of  relative  weight  (or  "  specific  gravity  ")  and  the  weight 
of  water  being  taken  as  the  standard  of  comparison,  a  distinction 
was  drawn  between  "  heavy  "  and  "  light  "  bodies.  The  floating 
of  a  piece  of  wood  on  the  surface  of  water,  and  its  rising  up  from 
the  bottom  when  no  longer  held  down,  were  rightly  interpreted  as 
a  consequence  of  their  respective  downward  tendencies  or  relative 
weights  ;  for  since  it  could  be  shown  by  experiment  that  if  equal 
measures  of  wood  and  of  water  were  put  in  the  two  scales  of  a 
balance,  the  water  would  go  down,  it  w^as  seen  that  the  earth  must 
have  a  greater  attraction  for  it,  and  that  the  ascent  of  the  wood  is 
brought  about  by  the  descent  of  the  water  to  take  its  place. 

Now  here  we  have  a  very  simple  case  of  what  is  commonly 
called  the  "  explanation  "  of  a  natural  phenomenon.  To  those 
who  first  reflected  on  the  matter,  the  ascent  of  the  solid  wood 
through  the  liquid  water  might  seem  an  exception  to  the  general 
uniformity,  for  v/hich  the  philosopher  of  the  time  would  be  desired 
to  account.  And  he  would  do  so  by  showing  that  it  is  really  in 
accordance  with  such  uniformity.  Further  than  this  he  could  not 
go  ;  and  further  than  this  no  scientific  explanation  can  go.  As 
J.  S.  Mill  has  truly  said,  "  In  science,  those  who  speak  of  explaining 
"any  phenomenon  mean  (or  should  mean)  pointing  out  not  some 
"more  familiar,  but  merely  some  more  general,  phenomenon,  of 
"which  it  is  a  partial  exemplification." — But  our  ancient  philosopher 
could  ?iot  have  so  explained  the  ascent  of  the  smoke  ;  for  he  knew 
not  that  both  the  atmosphere  and  the  smoke  have  weight ;  but 
that  the  smoke,  being  the  lighter  of  the  two,  ascends  like  a  piece  of 
wood  through  a  column  of  water ;  and  he  could  only  account  for 
it  by  attributing  to  the  smoke  an  exceptional  "levity,"  which 
made  it  ascend,  whilst  all  other  bodies  descended.  But  he  could 
not  really  get  any  nearer  to  the  "cause"  of  the  general,  than  to 
that  of  this  exceptiotial  phenomenon.  As  it  is  a  "  property,"  he 
would  say,  of  the  earth  to  attract,  and  of  bodies  in  general  to  be 


NATURE   AND  LAW.  371 

attracted  by  it,  dotvnwards^  so  it  is  a  "property"  of  smoke  to 
mount  upwards.  But  this  is  nothing  more  than  another  form  of 
stating  the  facts  famihar  to  everybody.  Such  philosophers  as  talk 
of  laws  "  explaining  "  phenomena,  or  of  the  "  potencies  "  of  matter 
as  giving  a  sufficient  account  of  its  activities,  seem  to  me  not  to 
have  got  beyond  that  "  wisdom  of  the  Ancients,"  which,  in  such 
a  case  as  that  just  cited,  they  would  themselves  repudiate  as  mere 
"  folly." 

The  notion  of  the  attractive  force  of  the  earth,  unchecked  by 
any  right  conception  of  the  action  of  force  in  producing  motion, 
led  the  Ancients  into  a  very  strange  error.  As  the  "  weight "  of  a 
body  is  the  expression  of  the  downward  "  pull  "  which  the  earth 
exerts  upon  it,  it  seemed  natural  to  suppose  that  the  rate  of  the 
fall  of  any  heavy  body  to  the  ground  would  increase  in  proportion  to 
that  weight,  so  that  a  body  weighing  ten  pounds  would  fall  ten  times 
as  fast  as  a  body  weighing  one  pound.  And  this  was  formulated 
as  a  "law"  by  Aristotle,  and  accepted  by  "educated"  mankind 
as  such  for  nearly  two  thousand  years  :  for  although  it  might 
have  been  at  once  disproved  by  the  very  simple  experiment  of 
letting  fall  the  two  weights  at  the  same  moment  from  the  top  of  a 
high  tower,  and  observing  when  they  respectively  struck  the  ground 
at  the  bottom,  the  authority  of  Aristotle  on  the  one  hand  (to  doubt 
which  was  rank  heresy),^  and  what  seemed  the  "  common  sense 
of  the  matter  "  on  the  other,  prevented  it  from  being  called  in 
question. 

Here  again  (as  it  seems  to  me)  we  may  find  a  lesson  of  great 
value.  Aristotle  was  undoubtedly  —  as  regards  science — the 
"  master  mind  "  of  the  ancient  philosophy  ;  but  in  this  matter 
he  proceeded  upon  his  own  conceptions,  instead  of  upon  ascer- 
tained facts ;  and  he  consequently  presumed  to  make  laws  for 
Nature,  instead  of  setting  himself  to  determine  what  are  the  laws 
of  Nature — framing  general  expressions  of  what  he  thought  must 
be  her  orderly  uniformities,  instead  of  inquiring  what  these 
uniformities  really  are,  and  basing  his  generalizations  upon  them. 

It  was  by  Galileo  that  this  matter  was  first  experimentally 
investigated.  While  yet  a  student  in  medicine  at  the  University 
of  Pisa  (his  native  town),  his  attention  was  attracted  by  the  swing- 
Lag  of  one  of  the  chandeliers  from  the  lofty  roof  of  the  Cathedral, 


372  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

which  suggested  to  him  a  series  of  experiments  upon  the  vibrations 
of  pendulums  of  different  lengths— without,  however,  causing  him 
to  pursue  the  subject  further  than  the  devising  an  instrument  for 
measuring  the  rate  of  the  pulse.  But  the  interest  he  took  in  the 
study  of  mathematics  and  mechanics  proved  so  strong  as  to  lead 
him  to  devote  himself  entirely  to  them,  with  a  success  that  caused 
him  to  be  appointed  lecturer  on  those  subjects  at  the  University. 
Although  no  religious  reformation  could  then  make  head  in  Italy, 
a  revolt  against  the  domination  of  Aristotle  was  beginning  to 
break  out  among  its  scientific  men  ;  and  undeterred  by  the  fate 
of  Giordano  Bruno  (who  was  burnt  by  the  Inquisition  at  Rome  in 
1600),  Galileo  early  joined  the  movement  party.  One  of  the  first 
of  the  Aristotelian  doctrines  which  he  called  in  question,  was  that 
which  I  have  just  cited.  He  saw  that  it  must  be  erroneous,  as 
taking  no  account  of  the  very  obvious  consideration  that  while 
the  "pull"  of  the  earth  on  the  weight  of  10  lbs.  is  ten  times  as  great 
as  it  is  upon  the  weight  of  i  lb.,  it  has  to  give  motion  to  ten  times 
the  mass ;  so  that  the  rates  of  fall  of  the  two  bodies  would  be  the 
same.  His  teaching  on  this  subject  being  opposed  by  his  col- 
leagues, Galileo,  in  the  presence  of  the  whole  University,  ascended 
the  "  leaning  tower,"  and  dropping  from  its  summit  bodies  of 
different  weights,  he  showed  that  (with  an  inconsiderable  differ- 
ence, due  to  the  resistance  of  the  air)  they  reached  the  bottom  in 
the  same  times. 

As  the  monument  of  an  experiment  which  gave  the  death-blow 
to  the  tmscietitific  legislation  of  Aristotle,  and  prepared  the  way  for 
the  scientific  legislation  of  Newton,  the  "  leaning  tower  "  of  Pisa 
beautiful  in  itself  as  an  architectural  work,  has  a  far  grander  in- 
terest for  all  who  can  appreciate  this  great  step  in  the  emancipation 
of  thought,  which  should  cause  it  to  be  preserved  with  the  most 
jealous  care  so  long  as  its  stones  will  hold  together. 

But  this  demolition  of  an  old  error  was  only  the  first  result  of 
Galileo's  experimental  researches.  For  he  found,  by  letting  fall 
similar  weights  from  different  heights,  that  the  rate  of  motion  of 
the  falling  body  continually  increases  as  it  descends ;  a  body  that 
falls  16  feet  in  one  second,  falling  64  feet  in  two  seconds,  144  feet 
in  three  seconds,  and  256  feet  vafour  seconds,  this  last  being  prob- 
ably the  greatest  height  at  which  he  could  experiment     These 


NATURE   AND   LAW.  373 

results  were  found  capable  of  being  expressed  by  a  very  simple 
formula — that  the  total  fall  in  any  number  of  seconds  is  the  pro- 
duct of  the  square  of  that  number  multiplied  into  the  fall  in  the 
first  second.  But  there  was  no  adequate  ground  for  asserting,  or 
even  for  expecting,  that  this  formula  would  hold  good  in  regard  to 
a  body  let  fall  from  a  height  of  ten  or  a  himdred  times  256  feet. 
The  "law"  was,  in  that  stage,  the  simple  generalized  expression 
of  facts  within  the  range  of  actuq.1  knowledge.  No  one  had  a 
right  to  say  how  far  above  the  general  surface  of  the  earth  its 
attractive  force  extends  ;  nor  could  it  be  affirmed  with  any  cer- 
tainty, that  the  fall  of  bodies  from  great  mountain  heights  would 
follow  the  same  "law"  as  their  fall  from  the  top  of  a  tower. 

But  a  great  advance  was  made,  when  Galileo  applied  to  this 
case  the  general  doctrine  of  the  action  of  "  accelerating  forces," 
to  which  his  study  of  mechanics  had  led  him.  For  he  saw  that 
when  the  falling  body  is  let  go,  it  starts  from  a  state  of  rest,  its 
velocity  being  o ;  and  that  since  it  is  receiving  afresh,  at  every 
instant  of  its  fall,  the  same  "  pull  "  from  the  earth  as  that  which 
first  puts  it  in  motion,  its  rate  of  movement  must  undergo  a  con- 
tinual regular  acceleration.  On  the  basis  of  this  conception,  a 
very  simple  computation  showed  that  during  the  first  second  it 
will  have  thus  acquired  a  velocity,  which,  if  there  were  no  fresh 
"pull,"  would  carry  it  through  32  feet  in  the  next  second,  but 
which,  ^inth  the  fresh  "  pull,"  would  cause  it  to  descend  48  feet, 
making  64  feet  in  the  two  seconds — and  so  on.  The  simply 
empirical  law,  then,  which  at  first  had  no  higher  value  than  it 
derived  from  its  accordance  with  a  very  limited  experience,  and 
which  might,  or  might  not,  be  found  to  hold  good  beyond  the 
range  of  that  experience,  acquired  a  rational  value,  as  the  ex- 
pression of  what  may  be  fairly  anticipated  to  be  the  continually 
accelerating  rate  of  motion  of  falling  bodies,  due  to  the  con- 
stantly acting  attraction  of  the  earth  upon  all  bodies  within  its 
range.  And  thus  it  was  reasonable  to  expect,  that  within  the 
range  of  the  earth's  attraction — whatever  that  range  might  be — 
the  rate  of  descent  of  bodies  falling  towards  its  surface  would  still 
be  found  to  conform  to  it.  But  no  one  could  then  form  any 
definite  idea  as  to  the  extent  of  that  range.  It  was,  as  we  shall 
presently  see,  the  bold  "  scientific  imagination  "  of  Newton,  which 


374  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

first  framed  the  conception — and  his  vast  mathematical  ability, 
which  enabled  him  to  give  it  definite  shape — that  the  moon  is 
constantly  "  falling  "  towards  the  earth  at  a  rate  exactly  conform- 
able to  that  "  law  "  of  terrestrial  gravitation,  with  which  the  name 
and  fame  of  Galileo  will  ever  be  associated. 

My  own  first  ideas  of  the  Newtonian  Philosophy,  if  I  rightly 
remember,  were  drawn  from  the  answer  given  in  that  best  child's 
book  of  my  generation — "Evenings  at  Home" — to  the  question 
"Why  does  an  apple  fall?"  Whether  the  apple  of  Newton  is  to 
be  relegated,  like  that  of  Tell,  to  the  limbo  of  "  myths,"  is  a  question 
I  shall  not  stop  to  discuss.  It  is  enough  that  the  story  .serves  to 
illustrate  the  "idea."  Probably  if  the  question  were  put  to  a 
hundred  "educated"  people,  ninty-nine  of  them  would  give  one  of 
these  two  answers,  "Because  of  the  earth's  attraction,"  or,  "  Because 
of  the  law  of  gravitation."  But,  as  I  have  shown,  to  speak  of  the 
attraction  of  the  earth,  is  merely  to  express,  in  different  words,  the 
fact  that  it  "  draws  "  the  apple  downwards  ;  and  if  we  go  further 
and  say  that  the  earth  draws  downwards  not  only  apples,  but 
stones,  water,  and  air — in  fact,  all  material  bodies  whatever — we 
only  express  a  general  uniformity,  of  which  we  know  nothing  more 
than  that  it  is.  Clearly  it  is  no  real  "explanation"  of  the  fall  of 
any  one  apple,  to  say  that  all  apples  or  all  material  bodies  fall 
when  unsupported.  So  the  "  law "  of  gravitation  is  merely  an 
expression  of  that  general  uniformity,  framed  with  a  scientific 
exactness  which  enables  us  to  say  "  with  certainty  "  (in  common 
parlance)  what  will  be  the  time  occupied  in  the  fall  of  a  heavy  body 
through  any  given  number  of  feet.  But  that  "certainty"  depends 
not  upon  any  "  governing  "  action  of  the  "  law  "  itself, — for  into  the 
purely  scientific  conception  of  law  the  idea  of  a  governing  power 
does  not  enter ; — but  solely  upon  our  rational  expectation  that 
what  has  been  found  conformable  to  a  vast  experience  in  the  past, 
under  every  variety  of  conditions,  will  in  like  manner  prove  con- 
formable to  it  in  the  future. 

Before,  however,  we  follow  the  development  of  Galileo's 
doctrine  of  terrestrial  gravitation  into  the  Newtonian  doctrine  of 
universal  gravitation,  we  must  deal  with  another  of  the  "laws" 
imposed  on  Nature  by  the  ancient  philosophy.  It  was  held  that 
as  a  circle  is  the  most  "perfect  "  figure,  and  as  the  motions  of  the 


NATURE   AND   LAW.  375 

celestial  bodies  imcst  be  "  perfect,"  they  must  revolve  in  circles  ; — 
whether  round  the  sun,  as  Pythagoras  maintained,  or  round  the 
earth,  as  Aristotle  and  the  later  Schoolmen  taught.  Every  tyro 
knows  how  the  Ptolemaic  system  of  astronomy,  based  on  the  latter 
conception,  developed  itself  into  a  mechanism  of  most  ingeniously 
devised  complexity,  by  the  necessity  of  continually  adding  new 
cycles  and  epicycles  to  "account  for"  the  new  discordances  which 
improved  methods  of  observation  were  continually  bringing  to  light 
between  the  actual  and  the  predicted  places  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 
This  method  of  "  accounting  for ''  them  was  a  pure  assumption  ; 
and  yet  it  answered  its  purpose  so  well,  as  to  form  the  basis  of  the 
methods  of  astronomical  computation  in  use  at  the  present  time.* 
But  when  Copernicus  revived  the  scheme  of  Pythagoras,  and  the 
comparative  simplicity  of  his  system  (doing  away  with  a  large  part 
of  the  cumbrous  machinery  of  the  Ptolemaic)  recommended  it  to 
the  acceptance  of  minds  not  trammelled  by  their  own  scholastic 
prejudices,  or  dominated  by  ecclesiastical  tyranny,  the  whole 
question  had  to  be  studied  afresh  ;  and  it  was  by  the  marvellous 
perseverance  and  ingenuity  of  Kepler,  the  contemporary  and  friend 
of  Galileo,  that  the  solution  of  it  was  found.  Starting  with  the 
conviction  that  there  must  be  an  "  order  "  (if  he  could  only  find  it 
out),  he  passed  his  life  in  a  series  of  guesses  as  to  what  that  order 
might  be  ;  and  his  ingenuity  in  guessing  was  only  surpassed  by  his 
eagerness  in  subjecting  every  guess  to  the  test  of  its  strict  con- 
formity with  observed  facts,  and  by  his  candid  readiness  to  abandon 
it  so  soon  as  its  discordance  became  clear  to  him.  Limiting  his 
studies  to  the  orbit  of  Mars,  he  brought  to  the  explanation  of  the 
observed  places  of  that  planet  all  the  resources  of  eccentric  but 
uniform  circular  motion,  which  he  could  devise  both  for  Mars  and 

*  It  is  not  a  little  singular  that,  notwithstanding  the  great  advance  which 
mathemalical  science  has  made  since  Newton's  time,  no  formula  has  yet  Ijeen 
devised  for  (//rtr/Zi' computing  the  place  of  a  planet  or  comet  in  an  elliptic  orliit ; 
all  such  computations  being  still  made  on  the  assumption  of  uniform  circnlar 
motion,  with  cycles  and  epicycles  "  interpolated  "  (after  the  method  of  Ptolemy) 
so  as  to  attain  any  required  appn^ximation  to  absolute  correctness.  And  thus, 
both  as  generalizing  the  facts  of  observation,  and  as  furnishing  the  only  basis 
for  accurate  prediction,  this  complex  conception  (as  now  perfected)  would  have 
liad  even  a  higher  claim  to  be  received  as  true  to  Nature  than  Kepler's  "  laws  " 
o{  elliptic  motion,  until  these  were  shown  to  be  deducible  from  Newton's  grand 
and  simple  assumptions. 


376  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

the  earth  ;  but  found,  time  after  time,  that  Mars  "  burst  all  the 
"chains  of  the  equations,  and  broke  forth  from  the  prisons  of  the 
"tables."  At  last  it  occurred  to  him  to  try  an  ellipse;  and  on 
projecting  this  as  the  path  of  the  planet,  he  found,  to  his  great  joy, 
that  the  observed  places  of  Mars  in  the  heavens  corresponded  so 
exactly  with  what  they  should  be  on  that  assumption,  as  to  afford 
the  strongest  assurance  of  its  truth.  But  this  hypothesis  of  the 
elliptical  orbit  of  Mars  did  not  "  explain  "  anything ;  it  did  no 
more  than  state  in  general  terms  the  course  of  that  one  planet's 
motion.  Why  Mars  should  take  that  course,  was  a  question  on 
which  he  threw  no  light.  And,  however  probable  he  might  think 
it  that  the  other  planets  also  move  in  elliptic  orbits,  he  neither 
proved  it  as  a  fact  by  the  like  experiential  investigation,  nor  could 
adduce  any  other  ground  for  such  probability  than  that  general  idea 
of  uniformity  and  harmony  which  was  the  basis  of  his  whole  work. 
It  is  clear,  then,  that  Kepler's /r^/  "  law  of  planetary  motion  "  has 
in  itself  no  "governing"  power  whatever. 

While  working  out  his  conception  of  elliptical  motion,  Kepler 
was  baffled  for  a  time  by  the  discordance  between  the  observed 
places  of  Mars,  and  the  places  which  would  be  predicted  for  him 
on  the  assumption  of  "uniform  "  motion  in  an  elliptic — instead  of 
in  a  circular — orbit.  Finding  that  motion  to  be  much  more  rapid 
in  the  part  of  the  orbit  nearer  the  sun,  than  in  the  part  more 
remote  from  it,  he  again  applied  himself  to  his  old  work  oi guessing ; 
and  it  is  singular  that  he  was  led  to  hit  upon  what  is  known  as  his 
second  law — the  passage  of  the  "radius  vector"  over  equal  areas 
in  equal  times — by  an  erroneous  physical  conception  of  a  driving 
force  emanating  from  the  sun,  and  acting  more  powerfully  on  near 
bodies  than  those  at  a  distance.  Now  this  second  "  law,"  like  the 
first,  was  simply  nothing  else  than  a  theoretical  generalization  of  a 
class  of  facts  ;  its  value  lay  entirely  in  the  correctness  with  which 
it  expressed  them  ;  and  so  far  was  Kepler  from  having  attained  to 
any  higher  conception  of  its  import,  that  what  he  regarded  as  a 
triumphant  confirmation  of  his  doctrine  came  out  of  a  merely 
accidental  relation  between  the  ellipse  and  the  circle.* 

*  I  do  not  know  any  more  instructive  or  interesting  scientific  biography 
than  the  "  Life  of  Kepler,"  by  Drinkwater,  published  by  the  long-since-defunct 
"Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge,"  which  did  much  good  work 
of  this  kind  half  a  century  ago. 


NATURE   AND  LAW.  377 

It  was  not  until  twelve  years  after  the  publication  of  his  first 
two  "  laws,"  that  Kepler  was  able  to  announce  the  discovery  of  the 
third ;  which  expresses  the  numerical  relation  between  the  re- 
spective distances  of  the  planets  from  the  sun,  and  the  times  oi  their 
revolution  around  him.  This,  again,  was  the  outcome  of  a  long 
series  of  guesses.  And  what  was  remarkable  as  to  the  error  of  the 
idea  which  suggested  the  second  law  to  his  mind,  was  still  more 
remarkable  as  to  the  third  ;  for  not  only,  in  his  search  for  the 
"harmony "  of  which  he  felt  assured,  did  he  proceed  on  the 
erroneous  notion  of  a  whirling  force  emanating  from  the  sun, 
which  decreases  with  increase  of  distance,  but  he  took  as  his  guide 
another  assumption  no  less  erroneous,  viz.,  that  the  masses  of  the 
planets  increase  with  their  distances  from  the  sun.  In  order  to 
make  this  last  fit  with  the  facts,  he  was  driven  to  assume  a  relation 
of  their  respective  densities,  which  we  now  know  to  be  utterly 
untrue ;  for,  as  he  himself  says,  "  unless  we  assume  this  proportion 
"of  the  densities,  the  law  of  the  periodic  times  will  not  answer." 
Thus,  says  his  biographer,  "  three  out  of  the  four  suppositions 
"made  by  Kepler  to  explain  the  beautiful  law  he  had  detected,  are 
"  now  indisputably  known  to  be  false  ;  "  what  he  considered  to  be 
the /r^^  of  it,  being  only  a  mode  of  false  reasoning  by  which  "any 
"required  result  might  be  deduced  from  any  given  principles." 
And  yet  I  cannot  doubt  that  if  Kepler  had  found  his  "  law  "  to  be 
inconsistent  with  \}c\.Q.Jacts  of  which  it  was  the  generalized  expression, 
he  would  have  at  once  surrendered  this  pet  child  of  his  old  age, 
with  the  same  honest  zeal  for  truth  that  led  him  to  abandon  the 
earlier  offspring  of  his  creative  brain. 

Neither  of  the  "  laws "  formulated  by  Kepler,  then,  can  be 
regarded  as  having  any  higher  than  an  absolutely  einpirical  value  ; 
being  good  as  expressions  of  certain  classes  of  uniformities  ob- 
servable in  nature ;  but,  as  he  left  them,  quite  untrustworthy — 
except  as  a  guide  to  further  inquiry — beyond  the  limits  of  the 
experience  on  which  they  were  based.  They  had  (as  it  seems  to 
me)  just  the  value  of  what  is  commonly  known  as  "Bode's  formula" 
(called  by  Professor  Newcome  the  "  law  of  Titius  "),  in  regard  to 
the  distances  of  the  planets  from  the  sun  :  for  this  gave  a  numerical 
expression  of  the  several  distances  of  Mercury,  Venus,  the  Earth, 
Mars,  Jupiter,  Saturn,  and  Uranus,  which  not  only  agreed  sufficiently 


378  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

well  with  the  observed  facts  to  suggest  the  existence  of  a  real 
"law;"  but  actually  led  to  the  prediction  of  a  "lost  planet" 
between  Mars  and  Jupiter,  which  has  been  verified  by  the 
discovery  of  somewhere  near  two  hundred  "asteroids,"  to  say 
nothing  of  streams  of  meteorites.  The  discovery  of  Neptune,  how- 
ever, effectually  demolished  the  credit  of  this  "law;"  the  distance 
of  that  planet  from  the  sun  proving  to  be  nearly  one- fourth  less  than 
the  formula  would  make  it.* 

The  first  of  the  great  achievements  of  Newton  in  relation  to 
our  present  subject,  was  a  piece  of  purely  geometrical  reasoning. 
Assuming  two  forces  to  act  on  a  body,  of  which  one  should  be 
capable  of  imparting  to  it  uniform  motion  in  a  straight  line,  whilst 
the  other  should  attract  it  towards  a  fixed  point  in  accordance  with 
Galilto's  law  of  terrestrial  gravity,  he  demonstrated  that  the  path 
of  the  body  would  be  deflected  into  a  curve,  which  must  be  one  of 
the  conic  sections;  and  that,  if  the  two  forces  are  in  near  equivalence 
the  one  to  the  other,  the  curve  will  be  an  ellipse.  (Galileo  had 
already  shown  that  the  path  of  the  projectile  in  which  gravity 
preponderates  over  the  onward  force,  is  a  parabola).  He  proved, 
moreover,  that  the  motion  of  any  body  thus  traversing  an  elliptical 
orbit  round  a  centre  of  attraction,  must  conform  in  its  varying 
rates  to  Kepler's  second  law.  And  further,  he  showed  that  if  a 
number  of  bodies  be  moving  round  the  same  centre  of  attraction 
at  different  distances,  the  rates  of  their  revolution  mv.st  conform 
to  Kepler's  third  law.  By  assuming  the  existence  of  these  two 
balanced  forces,  therefore,  he  not  only  showed  that  all  the  observed 
uniformities  could  be  deduced  from  that  one  simple  conception, 
but  furnished  a  rational  basis  for  the  assured  expectation  that  the 
like  uniformities  would  prevail  in  every  other  case.  And  the 
verification  of  this  expectation  by  the  discovery  that  even  comets 

*  It  may  not  be  iminstructive  to  note  that  in  their  mathematical  search  for 
this  stranger,  which  manifested  its  presence  by  disturbing  the  rrotions  of  Uranus, 
both  Adams  and  Leverrier  took  Bode's  formula  as  the  basis  of  their  computa- 
tions, assuming  its  distance  from  the  sun  to  be  somewhat  more  than  twice  that 
of  Uranus.  And  it  was  by  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  fortunate  coincidence, 
that  the  new  planet  was  found  in  the  place  which  they  agreed  in  assigning  to 
it ;  for  if  the  search  had  been  made  a  year  earlier  or  a  year  later,  its  actual 
place  would  have  been  so  far  from  its  computed  place,  that  it  would  probably 
not  have  been  found  until  new  computations  had  been  made  on  the  basis  of 
some  more  lucky  guess. 


NATURE  AND  LAW.  379 

move  in  elliptical  orbits,  and  that,  if  these  orbits  can  be  exactly 
determined  by  observation,  and  the  influence  of  perturbing  forces 
rightly  estimated,  their  return  can  be  predicted,  may  be  considered 
as  fully  justifying  such  an  expectation,  so  far  at  least  as  the  solar 
system  is  concerned. 

But  the  "law"  at  which  we  thus  arrive,  is  only  a  higher  and 
more  comprehensive  generalization  of  the  facts  of  celestial  observa- 
tion, and  rests  on  assumptions  which  are  not  only  improved  but 
unprovable.  For  the  idea  of  continuous  onward  motion  in  a 
straight  line,  as  the  result  of  an  original  impulsive  force  not 
antagonized  or  affected  by  any  other — formularized  by  Newton 
as  his  first  "  law  of  motion  " — is  not  borne  out  by  any  acquired 
experience,  and  does  not  seem  likely  to  be  ever  thus  verified. 
For  in  no  experiment  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  make,  can  we 
entirely  eliminate  the  antagonizing  effect  of  friction  and  atmo- 
spheric resistance ;  and  thus  all  movement  that  is  subject  to  this 
retardation,  and  is  not  sustained  by  any  fresh  action  of  the  im- 
pelling force,  must  come  to  an  end.  Hence  the  conviction  com- 
monly entertained  that  Newton's  first  "  law "  of  motion  must  be 
true,  cannot  be  philosophically  admitted  to  be  anything  more 
than  a  high  probability,  based  on  the  fact  that  the  more  completely 
we  can  eliminate  all  antagonizing  influences,  the  nearer  we  get  to 
the  perpetuity  of  movement  once  initiated.  To  say  that  this  "  law  " 
is  so  self-evident  that  we  cannot  help  accepting  it  as  an  "  axiom  "  or 
necessary  form  of  thought,  is  to  run  counter  to  the  historical  fact, 
that  the  great  thinkers  of  antiquity— whom  none  have  ever  sur- 
passed in  pure  thinking  power — accepted  as  the  dictate  of  universal 
experience,  that  all  terrestrial  motions  come  to  an  end ;  and  were 
thus  led  to  range  the  celestial  motions  in  a  different  category,  as 
going  on  for  ever. 

So,  again,  we  have  no  proof,  and  in  the  nature  of  things  can 
never  get  one,  of  the  assumption  of  the  attractive  force  exerted 
either  by  the  earth,  or  by  any  of  the  bodies  of  the  solar  system, 
upon  other  bodies  at  a  distance.*     All  that  we  can  be  said  to 

*  Newton  himself  strongly  felt  that  the  impossibility  of  rationally  accounting 
for  action  at  a  distance  through  an  intervening  vacuum,  was  the  weak  point  of 
his  system.  The  science  of  the  present  day  .is  seeking  for  the  solution  of  this 
difficulty,  in  the  hypothesis  of  the  universal  pervasion  of  space  by  moving  mole- 
cules of  some  form  of  highly  attenuated  matter. 

I"7 


38o  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

ktiow  (as  I  have  already  pointed  out)  is  that  which  we  learn  from 
our  own  experience  as  to  the  attraction  of  the  earth  for  bodies 
near  its  surface.  And  although  Newton  is  commonly  credited 
with  having  "  demonstrated "  the  identity  between  terrestrial 
gravity  and  the  force  which  deflects  the  moon  out  of  its  straight 
course,  and  with  thus  having  "proved"  the  universality  of  the 
mutual  attraction  of  masses  of  matter,  I  speak  with  the  authority 
to  which  I  consider  myself  entitled,  not  by  my  own  study  of  this 
subject,  but  by  the  answers  of  the  greatest  masters  of  it  to  questions 
I  have  put  to  them, — that  what  Newton  really  did  was  to  show 
that  such  an  exact  numerical  confoi'mity  exists  between  the  rate  of 
fall  of  the  moon  towards  the  earth  (that  is  to  say,  her  deflection 
from  her  onward  rectilineal  path)  in  any  given  time,  and  the  rate 
of  a  body  actually  falling  to  the  earth's  surface  (according  to 
Galileo's  law),  as  justifies  the  assumption  of  the  identity  of  the 
force  which  causes  the  former,  with  that  of  which  we  have 
experience  in  the  production  of  the  latter. 

Now,  in  regard  to  the  sun's  attraction  for  the  earth  and  planets, 
we  have  no  certain  experience  at  all.  Unless  we  could  be  trans- 
ported to  his  surface,  we  should  have  no  means  of  experimentally 
comparing  solar  gravity  with  terrestrial  gravity ;  and  if  we  could 
ascertain  this,  we  should  be  no  nearer  the  determination  of  his 
attraction  for  bodies  at  a  distance.  The  doctrine  of  universal 
gravitation,  then,  is  a  pure  assumption ;  and,  as  a  highly  com- 
petent writer,*  who  obviously  takes  my  own  view  of  the  matter, 
has  lately  said  with  reference  to  Descartes'  theory  of  "vortices" 
(which,  essentially  the  same  with  Kepler's,  for  some  time  disputed 
the  field  with  Newton's  theory) : — "  Had  Descartes  been  able  to 
"  show  that  the  parts  of  his  vortex  must  move  in  ellipses  having 
"  the  sun  in  one  focus,  that  they  must  describe  equal  areas  in  equal 
"  times,  and  that  their  velocity  must  diminish  as  we  recede  from 
"the  sun,  according  to  Kepler's  third  law,  his  theory  would  have 
"so  far  been  satisfactory."  But  while  "all  three  of  Kepler's  laws 
"  were  expressed  in  the  single  law  of  gravitation  towards  the  sun, 
"  with  a  force  acting  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance," 
Descartes'  theory  entirely  failed  to  grasp  them,  and  therefore  fell 

♦  Professor  Simon  Newcomb,  of  the  United  States  Naval  Observatory,  in 
his  admirable  "  Popular  Astronomy." 


NATURE   AND  LA  IV.  381 

before  the  comprehensive  power  of  the  Newtonian  doctrine ;  which 
soon  afterwards  obtained  its  verification  in  the  discovery  that  the 
regular  movements  of  the  planets  in  their  orbital  revolution  round 
the  sun,  show  "perturbations"  whose  actual  amounts  are  found  to 
be  exactly  conformable  to  the  results  of  computations  based  on  the 
assumption  that  they,  too,  attract  one  another  in  proportion  to 
their  respective  masses.  A  like  verification  was  found  in  the 
application  of  the  doctrine  of  gravitation  to  the  familiar  phenomena 
of  the  tides ;  the  rationale  of  which  had  remained  a  mystery  until 
Newton  traced  not  only  their  diurnal  rise  and  fall,  but  their 
monthly  and  annual  variations,  to  the  attractive  force  exerted 
by  the  moon  (and  in  a  less  degree  by  the  sun)  upon  the  waters  of 
the  ocean. 

It  will  not,  I  believe,  be  questioned  by  any  one  who  has 
carefully  studied  Newton's  writings,  that  he  himself  regarded  the 
doctrine  of  universal  gravitation  as  an  hypothesis^  the  value  of 
which  entirely  depends  upon  the  conformity  of  every  deduction 
that  can  be  drawn  from  it  by  the  most  rigorous  mathematical 
reasoning,  with  the  facts  determined  or  determinable  by  observa- 
tion.* But  as  all  experience  since  his  time  has  but  afforded  fresh 
illustrations  of  that  conformity, — as  no  perturbation,  great  or 
small,  has  been  observed  in  any  of  the  bodies  of  the  solar  system, 
which  has  not  been  "  accounted  for  "  (to  use  the  familiar  phrase) 
by  its  conformity  with  the  general  doctrine, — and  as  the  orbital 
movements  of  double  stars  round  their  common  centre  of  gravity 
are  now  found  to  be  in  equally  exact  conformity  with  it,  we  feel 
an  assurance  of  its  truth,  which  nothing,  save  a  complete  revolu- 
tion either  in  the  world  of  matter  or  in  the  world  of  mind,  can 
ever  shake. 

But  this  brings  us  no  nearer  to  the  idea  of  "government"  by 
that  law.  That  Newton's  law  is  higher  and  more  general  than 
Kepler's — being,  to  use  the  language  of  J.  S.  Mill,  one  of  those 
fewest  and  simplest  assumptions  from  which,  being  granted,  the  whole 
order  of  Nature  would  result — does  not  give  it  any  "  power "  to 
produce  or  maintain  that  order.  It  is  simply  (again  to  quote 
J.  S.  Mill)  one  of  Xkxo^o.  feivest  general  propositions  from  which  all 
the  uniforniitics  which  exist  in  the  universe  might  be  deductively 

*  See  note,  p.  379. 


382  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

inferred  *  Newton,  then,  was  the  unquestionably  greatest  revealer 
the  world  has  yet  seen  of  the  order  of  the  universe.  As  was  grandly 
said  by  a  contemporary  poet — 

•'  Nature  and  Nature's  laws  lay  hid  in  night, 
God  said,  '  Let  Newton  be,'  and  all  was  light." 

But  so  far  was  he  from  claiming  to  have  revealed  anything  of 
the  cause  of  that  order,  that   he   most  distinctly   repudiated   the 
notion.     I  altogether  deny,  then,  the  ri5,^ht  of  the  so-called  philo- 
sophers of  our  time  to  attribute  to  Newton's  or  any  other  hypothesis 
the  solution  of  the  problem   of  the  Kosmos.     No  law  of  pure 
science  can  be  anything  but  an  expression  of  the  7^^/ of  its  orderly 
uniformity.     And  that  fact  gives  us  in  itself  no  clue  to  its  cause. 
But  it  clearly  does  not  exclude  the  notion  of  an  Intelligent  First 
Cause,  or  Causa  causarum.     And  to  that  notion  we  seem  to  be 
led  (as  I  pointed  out  in  my  former  paper)  by  our  own  experience 
of  volitional  or  purposive  agency.     To   me   the   uniformities   of 
Nature,  so  far  from  suggesting  blind  force,  have  ever  seemed  to 
present,  in  their  wonderful  combination  of  unity  and  variety,  of 
harmony  and  diversity,  of  grandeur  and  minuteness,  the  evidences 
of  such  a  Designing  Mind  as  we  recognize  in  any  great  human 
organization   which   approaches  our  notion   of  ideal   perfection, 
such  as  a  well-conducted  orchestra,  a  thoroughly  disciplined  army, 
or  an  admirably  arranged  manufactory.      To  see  a  great  result 
brought  about  by  the  consentaneous  but  diversified  action  of  a 
multitude  of  individuals,  each  of  whom  does  his  own  particular 
work  in  a  manner  that  combines  harmoniously  with  the  different 
work  of  every  other,  suggests  to  me  nothing  but  admiration  for 
the  Master-mind  by  which  that  order  was   devised,  and  by  the 
influence  of  which  it  is  constantly  sustained.     And  so,  as  I  wrote 
more  than  forty  years  ago,  "  every  step  we  take  in  the  progress  of 
"generalization,  increases  our  admiration  of  the  beauty  of  the  adap- 
"  tation,  and  the  harmony  of  the  action,  of  the  laws  we  discover ; 
"and  it  is  in  this  beauty  and  harmony  that  the  contemplative  mind 
"delights  to  recognize  the  wisdom  and  beneficence  of  the  Divine 
"  Author  of  the  universe."     And  I  persuade  myself  that  to  those 
who  have  followed  me  through  this  discussion,  it  may  not  be 

'•  System  of  Logic  "  (eighth  edition),  vol.  i.  p.  366. 


*  (i 


NATURE  AND  LAW.  383 

uninteresting  to  see  in  the  closing  paragraph  of  my  first  attempt 
to  work  out  the  "  Principles  of  General  and  Comparative  Physi- 
ology "  (1839),  the  conception  I  had  then  formed,  and  to  which 
I  still  adhere,  of  the  highest  aim  of  scientific  research  : — 

"  If,  then,  we  can  conceive  that  the  same  Almighty  fiat  which 
"  created  matter  out  of  nothmg — impressed  upon  it  one  simple 
"  law  which  should  regulate  the  association  of  its  masses  into 
"  systems  of  almost  illimitable  extent,  controlling  its  movements, 
"  fixina;  the  times  of  the  commencement  and  cessation  of  each 
"  world,  and  balancing  against  each  other  the  perturbing  influences 
"  to  which  its  own  actions  give  rise — should  be  the  cause,  not  only 
"  of  the  general  uniformity,  but  of  the  particular  variety  of  their 
"  conditions,  governing  the  changes  in  the  form  and  structure  of 
"  each  individual  globe  protracted  through  an  existence  of  count- 
"  less  centuries,  and  adjusting  the  alternation  of  '  seasons  and  times 
'* '  and  months  and  years ; '  should  people  all  these  worlds  with 
"  living  beings  of  endless  diversity  of  nature,  providing  for  their 
"support,  their  happiness,  their  mutual  reliance,  ordaining  their 
"  constant  decay  and  succession,  not  merely  as  individuals,  but  as 
"  races,  and  adapting  them  in  every  minute  particular  to  the  con- 
"  ditions  of  their  dwellings;  and  should  harmonize  and  blend 
"  together  all  the  innumerable  multitude  of  these  actions,  making 
"  their  very  perturbations  sources  of  new  power :  when  our  know- 
"  ledge  is  sufficiently  advanced  to  comprehend  these  things,  then 
"  shall  we  be  led  to  a  far  higher  and  nobler  conception  of  the 
"  Divine  mind  than  we  have  at  present  the  means  of  forming. 
"  But,  even  then,  how  infinitely  short  of  the  reality  will  be  any 
"  view  that  our  limited  comprehension  can  attain,  seeing,  as  we 
"  ever  must  in  this  life,  '  as  through  a  glass,  darkly  ! '  How  much 
"  will  remain  to  be  revealed  to  us  in  that  glorious  future,  when  the 
"  light  of  truth  shall  burst  upon  us  in  unclouded  lustre,  but  when 
"  our  mortal  vision  shall  be  purified  and  strengthened  so  as  to 
"  sustain  its  dazzling  brilliancy  !  " 

I  purpose,  at  some  future  time,  to  apply  the  above  method  of 
inquiry  to  the  Law  of  "  Evolution,"  which  is  very  commonly  sup- 
posed to  "account  for"  the  existing  fabric  of  the  universe — 
animate,  as  well  as  inanimate ;  and  to  show  that  it  really  does 
nothing  more  than  express  an  orderly  sequence  of  phenomena, 
leaving  the  cause  of  that  order  entirely  unexplained. 


384  NATURE   AND  MAN. 


XIV. 

THE    DOCTRINE   OF   EVOLUTION    IN   ITS   RELA- 
TIONS  TO   THEISM.* 

[The  following  Address  had  been  in  preparation,  by  request,  as  a  reply  to 
one  previously  delivered  by  the  then  President  of  Sion  College,  before  Mr. 
Darwin's  death.  I  purposely  dwelt  chiefly  on  the  Cosmical  Evolution,  as  a 
matter  on  which  scientific  men  are  now  generally  agreed  ;  and  did  not  attempt 
to  do  more,  in  regard  to  Biological  Evolution,  than  show  that  the  same  general 
doctrine  applied  also  to  it.] 

The  subject  on  which  I  am  to  address  you  can  only  be  profitably 
discussed,  when  the  ground  has  been  previously  cleared  of  all 
misconception  as  to  the  relative  claims  and  limitations  of  science 
and  theology,  and  the  boundaries  of  the  two  have  been  distinctly 
marked  out.  Dr.  Martineau  has  told  us  that  the  object  of  science 
is  to  determine  the  order  of  Nature,  whilst  it  is  the  function  of 
theology  to  determine  its  cause ;  but  this  definition  would  not 
be  accepted  by  those  who  find  in  the  interaction  of  ihe  J>hysical 
forces  a  sufficient  account  of  the  phenomena  of  Nature;  and  I 
should  rather  define  the  province  of  scieitce  as  the  interpretation 
of  the  phenomena  of  Nature  from  the  stand-point  of  physical 
causation,  whilst  theology  interprets  them  from  the  stand-point 
of  moral  causation.  Now,  although  the  two  conceptions  we  thus 
frame  differ  essentially  in  their  aspect  and  character,  yet,  as  I 
shall  endeavour  to  show,  they  are  perfectly  consistent  with  each 
other. 

The  scientific  conception  of  causation  has  recently  undergone 
a  remarkable  change,  which  has  scarcely  yet  received  its  formal 
recognition.     Most  of  you,  I  presume,  are  familiar  with  the  dis- 
cussions by  which  the  minds  of  the  logicians  of  the  last  century 
*  An  Address  delivered  at  Sion  College,  May  15th,  1882. 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  385 

and  the  first  half  of  the  present  were  exercised,  as  to  its  real 
nature.  While  Hume  and  his  followers  admitted  nothing  but 
invariable  and  unconditional  antecedence,  as  the  "cause"  of  a 
phenomenon,  excluding  altogether  that  notion  oi  force  or  power 
which  was  expressed  by  the  term  "efficient  cause,"  there  has 
always  been  a  school  of  scientific  men,  who  have  maintained  that 
this  notion  is  not  only  accordant  with  the  fundamental  instincts 
of  the  human  mind  and  the  uniform  teachings  of  human  experi- 
ence, but  is  justified  by  the  highest  scientific  reasoning.  And  I 
hold  it  to  be  not  the  least  of  the  vast  services  rendered  to  science 
by  Sir  John  Herschel,  that  by  constantly  keeping  this  great 
principle  in  clear  view,  he  prepared  the  way  for  that  general 
recognition  of  it,  which  has  latterly  come  about  almost  insensibly, 
as  a  result  of  those  researches  into  the  mutual  relations  of  the 
physical  forces,  which  have  culminated  in  the  general  doctrine  of 
the  Conservation  of  Energy.  For  even  John  Stuart  Mill,  who  was 
the  most  powerful  upholder  of  the  Hume  doctrine,  had  come,  in 
his  later  years,  to  perceive  (what  I  had  frequently  urged  upon  him 
at  an  earlier  period)  that  when  the  assemblage  of  antecedents  is 
analyzed,  they  are  always  found  resolvable  into  two  categories — 
the  force  or  power  which  produces  the  change,  and  the  material 
collocations  which  constitute  the  conditions  of  its  exercise.  Thus 
— to  use  one  of  Mill's  own  illustrations — although  we  speak  of 
a  man's  fail  from  a  ladder  as  "  caused  "  by  the  slipping  of  his  ibot 
or  the  breaking  of  a  rung  (as  the  case  may  be),  the  efficient  cause 
is  the  attractive  force  of  the  earth,  which  the  loss  of  support  to 
the  man's  foot  brings  into  operation.  And  now  that  heat,  light, 
electricity,  magnetism,  chemical  affinity,  and  vital  agency,  are 
universally  admitted  to  be  only  varied  expressions  of  different 
kinds  of  movement  among  the  particles  of  matter,  sustained  by 
the  same  agency  as  that  which,  when  it  acts  on  masses  of  matter, 
produces  or  resists  mechanical  motion,  the  "  efficient  cause "  of 
every  phenomenon  in  nature  is  sought  in  the  action  of  one  or 
other  of  these  forces,  and  the  determination  of  the  conditions  of 
that  action  becomes  the  primal  object  of  scientific  inquiry. 

The  first  result  of  thisstudy  is  the  recognition  of  uniformity 
in  the  action  of  these  forces ;  like  results  happening  under  like 
conditions ;  and  diversities  in  the  conditions  being  attended  with 


386  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

corresponding  differences  in  the  results.  And  it  is  from  obser- 
vation and  comparison  of  the  conditions  of  the  phenomena  of 
nature,  that  the  materials  are  obtained  for  those  general  expres- 
sions of  them  which  are  termed  laws.  Thus,  by  letting  fall 
weights  from  different  stories  of  the  leaning  tower  of  Pisa,  and 
accurately  noting  the  times  of  their  respective  descents,  Galileo 
was  able  to  frame  that  very  simple  expression  of  the  uniform 
relation  between  the  space  fallen  through,  and  the  square  of  the 
time  occupied  in  the  fall,  which  constitutes  the  law  of  Terrestrial 
Gravitation.  This  enables  us  to  predict,  with  what  we  call  scien- 
tific certainty,  how  many  feet  a  heavy  body  will  tall  through  in 
a  given  period  of  time ;  but  this  certainty  has  no  other  basis  than 
our  own  confident  expectation,  that  what  has  always  (so  far  as 
our  knowledge  extends)  proved  true  in  the  past,  will  prove  equally 
true  in  the  future.  For  the  "  law "  has  no  power  iti  itself;  only 
by  a  false  analogy  with  the  law  of  a  State,  can  it  be  said  to 
"govern"  or  "regulate"  the  phenomena  which  it  enables  us  to 
predict.  In  short,  though  perhaps  ninety-nine  persons  out  of  a 
hundred  would  reply  to  the  question  why  a  stone  falls  to  the 
ground,  "  because  of  the  law  of  gravitation,"  this  answer  would 
be  only  tantamount  to  saying,  "  Because  all  other  stones,  if  un- 
"  supported,  similarly  fall  to  the  ground,"  which  is  obviously  no 
explanation  at  all.  But  when  we  express  this  general  fact  "in 
terms  of  force,"  taking  as  a  fundamental  fact  of  human  experi- 
ence the  downward  pull  which  we  feel  the  earth  to  exert  upon 
every  body  which  we  raise  above  it  by  our  own  effort,  we  bring 
it  home  to  our  own  consciousness  of  personal  agency,  which,  as 
I  shall  presently  show,  constitutes  the  connecting  link  between 
the  scientific  and  the  theological  conceptions  of  Nature. 

The  attributing  to  "properties  of  matter"  the  phenomena 
which  we  witness  in  the  universe  around  us,  is  only  another  mode 
of  expressing  the  fact  of  those  uniformities,  which  science  finds  it 
convenient  to  employ,  and  does  not  give  any  other  "  explanation  " 
of  any  one  of  them,  than  that  which  consists  in  showing  it  to  be 
a  particular  case  of  a  general  flict.  Thus,  when  the  genius  of 
Newton  recognized  in  the  deflection  of  the  moon's  motion  from 
the  straight  path  into  an  elliptic  orbit  round  the  earth,  a  pheno- 
menon of  the  same  order  as  that  which  brings  to  the  ground  in 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  387 

a  parabolic  curve  a  cannon-shot  fired  obliquely  into  the  air,  and 
extended  the  same  conception  to  the  orbital  revolution  of  the 
earth  and  other  planets  round  the  sun,  he  perceived  that  even 
these  were  only  cases  of  the  still  more  general  fact,  that  all 
material  bodies  attract  one  another  with  forces  proportional  to 
their  respective  masses,  and  inversely  as  the  squares  of  their 
distances,  which  expression  is  known  as  the  law  of  Universal 
Gravitation.  Now  the  attributing  this  general  fact  to  a  universal 
property  of  mutual  attraction  inherent  in  every  particle  of  matter, 
is  really  but  another  mode  of  expressing  the  same  thing,  a  mere 
figure  of  speech,  which  no  more  accounts  for  the  phenomenon, 
than  does  its  similarity  to  any  number  of  other  phenomena. 

Let  me  illustrate  this  by  reference  to  a  "property"  which  is 
not  universal.  I  might  place  before  you  two  bars  of  iron,  exactly 
resembling  one  another  in  every  particular  of  which  our  senses 
can  directly  inform  us,  such  as  size,  weight,  external  aspect,  and 
internal  texture,  as  shown  by  fracture ;  and  yet  one  of  them, 
under  certain  conditions,  exerts  powers  of  which  the  other  shows 
itself  to  be  altogether  destitute.  When  brought  near  to  a  piece 
of  iron,  it  draws  it  to  itself  with  a  force  of  which  we  become 
conscious  in  endeavouring  to  resist  it ;  and  even  from  a  consider- 
able distance  it  deflects  a  compass-needle  from  its  true  position, 
in  a  manner  altogether  dissimilar  to  that  which  happens  when 
the  other  bar  is  brought  near  it.  From  observation  of  these  facts, 
I  can  predict  that  if  both  these  bars  be  buoyed  up  so  as  to  float 
on  water,  one  of  them  will  soon  settle  itself  in  a  north  and  south 
direction,  and  will  return  to  that  direction  whenever  deflected 
from  it ;  while  the  other  will  remain  in  any  position  in  which  it 
may  be  placed.  And  I  distinguish  the  former  as  having  "  mag- 
netic properties"  of  which  the  latter  is  destitute.  Further,  my 
knowledge  of  the  laws  of  magnetic  science  enables  me  to  predict 
that  by  moving  the  magnetic  bar  in  a  particular  manner  over  the 
non-magnetic  bar,  I  can  render  the  latter  also  magnetic,  or,  as 
may  be  said,  can  impart  magnetic  properties  to  it ;  but  as  this 
cannot  be  done  to  a  bar  of  gold  or  silver,  copper  or  lead,  we  say 
that  iron  is  distinguished  from  metals  generally  by  its  capacity 
for  being  magnetized.  Now,  this  is  clearly  no  explanatio7i  of  the 
phenomena  which  we  trace  to  the  action  of  magnetic  force;  it 


388  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

is  simply  a  general  expression  of  one  of  the  conditions  under 
which  that  force  is  exerted ;  and  the  embodiment  of  our  know- 
ledge of  those  conditions  into  such  general  expressions,  enables 
me  to  predict  other  phenomena  at  first  sight  having  no  relation 
to  them.  Thus  we  have  the  scientific  certainty  that  the  magnetic 
bar,  when  moved  within  a  coil  of  copper  wire,  will  generate  in 
that  wire  an  electric  current,  which,  when  conducted  to  any 
distance,  and  made  to  pass  in  a  coil  of  wire  around  a  soft  iron 
bar,  shall  render  it  capable  of  attracting  iron,  deflecting  the 
compass-needle,  and  so  on.  Thus,  to  say  that  a  piece  of  iron 
has  magnetic  properties,  is  only  another  way  of  saying  that  it  is 
a  magnet ;  but  whilst  the  ancients  only  knew  of  a  magnet  as 
having  the  power  of  attracting  iron,  we  know  that  it  is  capable 
of  doing  many  other  things ;  and  of  this  capacity,  the  phrase 
"  magnetic  properties  "  is  nothing  more  than  a  convenient  expres- 
sion, embodying  the  general  fact  that  the  piece  of  iron  which  is 
shown  to  be  possessed  of  any  one  of  them,  possesses  all  the  rest. 

I  might  follow  the  same  train  of  reasoning  into  every  depart- 
ment of  scientific  inquiry,  and  show  that  what  has  been  called  the 
"  promise  and  potency  "  of  matter  is  nothing  else  than  a  phrase 
embodying  a  general  conception  of  the  various  uniformities 
observable  in  its  actions,  and  not  helping  us  in  the  least  degree 
to  an  explanation  of  those  uniformities.  But  as  the  real  signifi- 
cance— or,  rather,  z^^significance — of  the  term  "property"  be- 
comes most  apparent  when  it  is  used  to  designate  the  respective 
potentialities  of  difi"erent  species  of  organic  germs,  I  shall  defer 
until  the  latter  part  of  my  address  what  I  would  further  say  upon 
this  point. 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  among  the  many  doctrines  which 
have  been  recently  propounded  to  account  for  particular  groups 
of  physical  phenomena,  is  that  known  as  the  kinetic  theory  of 
gases ;  to  which  the  eminent  ability  of  the  late  Professor  Clark 
Maxwell  gave  such  a  remarkable  development,  that,  according  to 
the  statement  of  one  of  its  ablest  expositors  (Professor  Tait),  it 
is  "capable  of  explaining  almost  everything  that  we  know  with 
"reference  to  the  behaviour  of  gases,  and,  perhaps,  even  of 
"vapours."  The  application  of  high  mathematical  reasoning  to 
the  facts  of  observation  seems  not  only  to  justify,  but  to  necessi- 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  389 

tate,  the  conclusion,  that  the  ultimate  particles  of  all  kinds  of 
gaseous  matter  are  constantly  darting  about  in  all  directions,  with 
enormous  rapidity,  and  impinging  not  only  against  each  other, 
but  against  the  walls  of  any  space  in  which  any  portion  of  gas 
may  be  enclosed  j  the  rates  of  movement  of  the  particles  of 
different  gases,  and  the  number  of  their  impacts  against  each 
other,  being  very  diverse,  though  constant  for  the  particles  of 
each  gas  so  long  as  its  conditions  remain  the  same.  Thus  the 
particles  of  hydrogen  are  moving  at  the  rate  of  something  like 
seventy  miles  in  a  minute,  and  every  particle  has  an  average 
number  of  17,700  millions  of  collisions  with  other  particles,  by 
each  of  which  its  course  is  changed;  whilst  in  atmospheric  air 
(in  which  the  mixture  of  oxygen  and  nitrogen  has  become  so 
complete  that  it  behaves  itself  in  this  respect  like  a  single  gas), 
the  particles  have  an  average  velocity  of  only  one-fourth  of  that 
of  hydrogen,  and  the  number  of  collisions  for  each  particle  is  only 
half  as  great.  But  though  the  hypothetical  assumption  of  these 
molecular  movements  in  the  gaseous  particles,  is  said  to  "  explain  " 
all  their  sensible  actions — such  as  their  escape  from  the  vessels 
in  which  they  are  imprisoned,  and  the  uniform  diffusion  of  one 
gas  through  another — it  really  does  nothing  more  than  carry  us 
a  step  higher  in  generalization.  For  supposing  we  accept  this 
hypothesis  as  a  fundamental  fact  in  physics,  the  question  remains 
as  to  the  source  of  the  movements,  and  the  nature  of  the  fo7xe 
by  which  they  are  sustained.  And  it  does  not  help  us  in  the 
least  to  attribute  them  to  an  inherent  activity  of  matter ;  seeing 
that  our  only  conception  of  that  activity  is  b/ised  on  observation 
either  of  the  movements  or  of  the  phenomena  from  which  those 
movements  are  inferred ;  just  as  the  old  notion  that  "  nature 
abhors  a  vacuum,"  merely  expresses  the  general  fact  that  air  or 
water  will  rush  in  to  fill  a  void  space,  without  giving  us  any 
understanding  of  why  it  does  so. 

It  is  not  a  little  instructive  to  find  that  two  such  masters  in 
the  philosophy  of  science  as  Clerk  Maxwell  and  Sir  John  Herschel, 
ac^reed  in  the  view  they  took  as  to  the  ultima  ratio  of  any  attempt 
to  explain  the  constitution  of  the  universe  by  the  "  properties  "  of 
its  component  atoms.  For  any  such  attempt — as  Sir  John  Her- 
schel long  since  pointed  out — lands  us  in  the  conception  of  a  very 


390  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

limited  number  of  groups  or  classes  of  atoms,  distinguished  by 
their  several  attributes ;  each  group,  however,  consisting  of  an 
almost  infinite  number  of  individuals  precisely  resembling  one 
another  in  their  properties.  "  Now,  when  we  see  a  great  number 
"  of  things  precisely  alike,  we  do  not  believe  this  similarity  to 
"  have  originated  except  from  a  common  principle  independent 
"  of  them  ;  and  this  conclusion,  which  would  be  strong  even  were 
"there  only  two  individuals  precisely  alike  in  all  respects  and/^?;* 
'■'■  ever^  acquires  irresistible  force  when  their  number  is  multiplied 
"  beyond  the  power  of  imagination  to  conceive.  If  we  mistake 
"not,  the  discoveries  alluded  to  effectually  destroy  the  idea  of  an 
"  eternal  self-existent  matter,  by  giving  to  each  of  its  atoms  the 
"  essential  characters  at  once  of  a  manufactured  article  and  a 
'■^subordinate  agent."  * 

Thus,  then,  whenever  we  witness  any  change  in  the  material 
world  for  which  we  desire  to  account,  we  are  led  by  scientific 
reasoning  to  seek  for  the  force  which  produced  it ;  and  only  when 
we  have  succeeded  in  finding  this,  do  we  consider  that  we  have 
rationally  explained  the  phenomenon.  But  whence  the  force  ? 
Science  now  teaches  us  to  look  for  the  source  of  it  in  the  trans- 
formation of  some  other  kind  of  energy ;  as  when  the  production 
of  heat  by  the  burning  of  coal  is  turned,  in  the  steam  engine,  to 
the  maintenance  of  mechanical  motion,  which,  communicated  to 
a  dynamo-machine,  generates  an  electric  current,  which,  in  its 
turn,  may  be  made  to  produce  heat,  light,  mechanical  motion,  or 
chemical  action.  But,  as  Sir  John  Herschel  pointed  out,  "  In  our 
"  own  performance  of  a  voluntary  movement,  we  have  a  conscious- 
"  ness  of  immediate  and  persofial  causation  which  cannot  be  dis- 
"  puted  or  ignored ;  and  when  we  see  the  same  kind  of  act 
"  performed  by  another,  we  never  hesitate  in  assuming  for  him 
"  that  consciousness  which  we  recognize  in  ourselves." 

The  Physiologist,  above  all  others,  is  forced,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  by  the  experience  of  every  day,  of  every  hour,  and  even  of 
every  minute,  to  recognize  the  mutual  convertibility  of  physical 
and  moral  agency  ; — the  pricking  of  our  skin  with  a  pin  producing 
a  change  in  our  state  of  feeling ;  and  a  mental  determination 
calling  a  muscle  (or  set  of  muscles)  into  a  contraction  which 
*      Discourse  on  the  Study  of  Natural  Philosophy,"  p.  38. 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  391 

generates  mechanical  power.  And  thus  a  bridge  of  connection  is 
estabhshed  between  physical  and  moral  causation,  which  enables 
us  to  pass  without  any  sense  of  interruption  or  inconsistency  from 
the  scientific  to  the  theological  interpretation  of  Nature,  as  here 
formulated : 

PHENOMENA    OF  NATURE. 
Scientific  Interpretation.  Theological  Interpretation. 

Physical  Causation.  Moral  Causation. 

Forces  of  Nature. — Designations  Powers  of  Nature. — The  de^gna- 

of  varied  modes  of  operation  o(  one  tions  of  varied  modes  of  manifesta- 

fo/ct'  acting  under  diversified  physi-  lion  of  one  and  tlie  same  Personal 

cal  conditions.  Agency    throughout    the    material 

Universe. 

Laws  of  Nature. — Generalized  ex-  Order   of   Nature. — The  expres- 

pressions  of   past   uniformities  ob-  sion  of  the  continuous  and  uniform 

served  in  the  action  of  the  forces  action  of  a  Supreme  Intelligence, 

of  Nature,  leading  to  the  expecta-  as  apprehended  by  the  intelligence 

tion  of  similar  uniformities  in  the  of  Man. 
future. 

With  these  views  of  the  relations  between  science  and  theology, 
I  have  never  myself  been  able  to  see  why  anything  else  than  a 
complete  harmony  should  exist  between  them.  True  it  is  that 
there  have  been,  from  time  to  time,  men  of  science,  who,  from 
what  I  believe  to  be  an  equally  limited  and  illogical  conception  of 
the  subject,  have  drawn  the  conclusion  that  there  is  "  no  room" 
for  a  God  in  Nature  ;  the  "  properties  of  matter  "  being,  in  their 
view,  all-sufficient  to  account  for  the  phenomena  of  the  universe 
and  for  the  powers  and  actions  of  the  human  mind.  But  this 
seems  to  me  only  a  natural  reaction  against  what  all  history 
teaches,  as  to  the  constancy  with  which,  ever  since  science 
emancipated  itself  from  theology  and  set  up  for  itself,  it  has  been 
hampered  and  impeded  in  its  search  for  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Nature, 
by  the  restraints  which  theologians  have  attempted  to  impose  upon 
its  inquiries.  The  Romish  Church,  adopting  the  philosophy  of 
Aristotle  into  its  own  theological  system,  opposed  as  heretical 
every  attempt  to  call  in  question  the  authority  of  Aristotle,  even 
as  to  matters  of  fact ;  and  while  it  could  not  repudiate  the  proof 
afforded  by  the  experiments  of  Galileo,  that  a  weight  of  lolb.  does 
nol  {as  affirmed  by  Aristotle)  fall  ten  times  faster  than  a  weight  of 
I  lb.,  it  judicially  condemned   him  as  an  impious  heretic,  for 


392  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

daring  to  teach  that  the  earth  moves  round  the  sun.  And  Pro- 
testant divines  in  this  country,  equally  taking  their  stand  upon 
infallible  authority,  but  shifting  its  basis  from  the  Church  to  the 
Bible,  have  no  less  vehemently  opposed  any  scientific  inquiry 
which  might  throw  a  doubt  upon  the  literal  accuracy  of  the  Book 
of  Genesis.  Thus  it  is  within  the  remembrance  of  many  of  us, 
how  the  conclusions  of  Geologists  as  to  the  long  succession  of 
changes  which  had  taken  place  in  the  crust  of  the  earth,  and  in 
the  races  of  plants  and  animals  which  had  peopled  its  surface, 
before  the  advent  of  Man,  were  denounced  as  destructive  of  all 
religious  faith ;  how,  when  obliged  by  the  logic  of  facts  to  admit 
that  the  beginning  of  the  world  must  be  antedated  indefinitely, 
theologians  took  a  fresh  stand  upon  the  modern  origin  of  Man, 
and  did  their  utmost  to  discredit  the  evidence  crowding  in  from 
all  quarters  as  to  his  remote  antiquity  and  the  low  condition  of 
our  primeval  ancestors  ;  and  how,  when  this  evidence  could  no 
longer  be  gainsaid,  they  tried  to  uphold  the  universality  of  the 
Noachian  Deluge, — with  the  miserable  result  of  an  ignominious 
surrender. 

But  I  rejoice  in  the  conviction  that  the  true  genius  of  Protes- 
tantism is  now  coming  to  be  generally  recognized  as  consisting, 
not  in  its  opposition  to  the  claims  of  the  Church  of  Rome  to 
infallible  authority,  but  in  its  protest  against  any  infallible  authority 
whatever  ;  in  its  readiness  to  submit  the  basis  of  its  religious 
system  to  the  most  searching  criticism ;  in  its  cordial  welcome  to 
every  truth  of  science  or  criticism  which  has  been  accepted  by 
the  general  voice  of  those  most  competent  to  decide  upon  its 
claims  ;  and  in  the  freedom  with  which  it  surrenders  such  parts 
of  its  dogmatic  systems,  as  prove  to  be  inconsistent  with  tliose 
great  fundamental  verities  of  moral  and  physical  science,  whose 
domination  over  the  educated  thought  of  mankind  constitutes  the 
basis  on  which  alone  the  religion  of  the  future  can  securely  rest. 
It  is  not,  in  my  view,  by  their  reassertion,  with  any  amount  of 
positiveness,  of  doctrines  from  which  the  educated  thought  of  the 
age  is  drifting  away,  that  the  teachers  of  religion  will  best  combat 
what  they  designate  as  the  "  prevalent  unbelief  j  "  but  by  showing 
themselves  ready  to  profit  by  the  lessons  of  the  past,  in  regard  to 
the  futility  of  all  attempts  either  to  check  the  progress  of  inquiry 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  393 

or  to  stifle  its  results,  and  by  placing  themselves  in  hearty  sym- 
pathy with  the  spirit  of  the  present.  Of  that  spirit,  the  noblest 
manifestation  is  to  be  found  in  the  life  of  that  great  man  whose 
departure  from  among  us  has  drawn  forth  an  expression  of 
reverential  sorrow,  the  universality  of  which  speaks  more  elo- 
quently than  any  words  of  the  world-wide  influence  exerted  by 
his  thought.  For  in  Darwin — as  has  been  well  said  by  one  who 
knew  him  best — the  love  of  truth  was  more  than  his  animating 
motive,  it  was  the  passion  of  his  intellectual  nature.  And  its 
ultimate  prevalence — whether  including  the  acceptance  or  in- 
volving the  rejection  of  his  own  system — was  the  firmest  and  most 
deeply  rooted  of  his  convictions. 

It  is  in  this  spirit  that  I  ask  you  to  follow  me  through 
the  inquiry  which  constitutes  the  purpose  of  our  present 
meeting. 

I  need  scarcely  tell  those  whom  I  am  addressing  that  the 
general  idea  of  Evolution  is  by  no  means  new.  A  notion  that 
the  universe  has  not  endured  for  ever  in  the  form  and  aspect  it 
now  presents,  has  been  entertained  in  all  ages,  and  by  all  peoples 
of  whose  thoughts  on  the  subject  we  have  any  record.  In  the 
Chaos  of  the  old  Greeks  we  have  the  type  of  confusion  and  dis- 
order ;  in  the  void  and  formless  waste  of  the  Hebrews,  the 
attempt  to  represent  a  primeval  condition  which  could  only  be 
characterized  by  negations, 

— a  dark 
Illimitable  ocean,  without  bound, 

Without  dimension,  where  length,  breadth,  and  height, 
And  time  and  place,  are  lost. 

Out  of  this  Chaos,  divine  power  evoked  order  and  harmony  ;  the 
void  and  formless  waste  was  made  first  to  take  definite  shape  in 
the  separation  of  the  firmament  from  the  earth ;  the  great  lights 
were  set  in  the  one ;  the  other  was  first  clothed  with  vegetation, 
and  then  peopled  with  animated  forms,  beasts  of  the  field,  fowls 
of  the  air,  fish  of  the  sea;  and  last  of  all  Man  was  called  into 
existence,  and  dominion  given  him  over  all  other  creatures.  And 
even  those  who  at  the  present  time  regard  the  Mosaic  cosmogony 
as  having  an  authoritative  claiin  on  their  acceptance,  are  bound 
by  it  to  regard  Creation,  not  as  an  ivuneUiate  but  as  a  progressive 


394  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

act, — a  gradual  development,  not  the  sudden  springing  of  a  com- 
plete universe  out  of  nothingness.  And  this  is  equally  the  case 
whether  the  "  six  days,"  each  with  its  evening  and  its  morning,  are 
received  in  their  literal  sense,  or  are  lengthened  into  indefinite 
periods  of  time. 

Lucretius  and  other  "  atomic  "  philosophers  attempted  to  give 
a  definite  shape  to  this  conception ;  but  it  first  found  really 
scientific  expression  in  the  "Nebular  Hypothesis"  of  modern 
astronomy,  the  combined  doctrine  of  Laplace  and  the  elder 
Herschel.  According  to  this,  the  original  condition  of  the 
universe  was  a  difi"used  "  fire-mist "  of  unequal  tenuity ;  the 
mutual  attractions  of  whose  particles  would  cause  its  denser 
portions  to  gather  round  them  the  rarer  matters  of  the  intervening 
spaces,  would  draw  together  the  smaller  collections  thus  formed 
into  larger  clusters,  and  would  thus  "evolve"  out  of  the  uni- 
versally but  unequally  diffused  nebular  matter  a  limited  number 
of  separate  substantial  masses.  At  the  same  time,  the  inequality 
in  the  movements  of  the  different  parts  of  the  condensing  fire-mist 
would  impart  rotary  motions  to  the  clustering  masses,  just  as 
whirlpools  are  formed  in  water,  or  whirlwinds  in  air,  by  the  action 
of  opposing  currents ;  and  such  rotation  would  lead  to  the 
detachment  of  the  outer  parts  of  the  clusters,  which  would  then 
draw  together  into  planetary  masses.  These  would  retain  their 
rotary  motion  round  their  original  centres,  whilst  acquiring,  in  the 
act  of  concentration,  a  rotary  motion  around  centres  of  their 
own,  and  in  their  turn  giving  off"  their  outer  portions  to  form 
satellites. 

As  regards  the  stellar  universe,  this  hypothesis  mainly  rests  on 
the  observations  of  the  elder  Herschel,  which  led  him  to  the 
conviction  that  beside  the  nebulae  which  the  power  of  his  tele- 
scope enabled  him  to  resolve  into  clusters  of  stars,  there  are  some 
which  are  still  in  the  condition  of  patches  of  diffused  faintly 
luminous  matter,  in  which  the  process  of  condensation  has  scarcely 
begun ;  others  smaller  but  brighter,  whose  central  parts  look  as  if 
they  would  soon  form  into  stars ;  others,  again,  in  which  stars  had 
actually  begun  to  form  ;  and  finally  star-clusters,  in  which  the 
condensation  is  complete.  Among  the  nearer  stars,  again,  which 
he  considered  to  form  part  of  our  own  particular  cluster,  he  dis* 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  39S 

tinguished  many  which  are  not  clear  points  of  brilliant  light,  but 
are  surrounded  by  a  more  or  less  extended  bright  haze,  such  as 
would  be  given  out  by  an  atmosphere  of  nebular  matter  in  a  state 
of  progressive  condensation.  And  he  pointed  to  what  are  known 
as  "  variable  "  stars,  as  affording  evidence  that  the  heavenly  bodies 
are  not  permanently  what  they  seem  to  us  at  any  one  moment, 
or  within  the  limited  period  of  our  observation  of  them,  but 
are  undergoing  progressive  changes,  the  several  stages  of  which 
are  presented  to  us  in  the  various  bodies  now  visible  in  the  firma- 
ment,— just  as  the  several  stages  of  any  one  human  life  from 
infancy  to  old  age  are  presented  by  the  members  of  a  single 
community. 

Now  Laplace  did  not  begin,  like  Herschel,  with  the  stellar 
universe  ;  but  aimed  to  give  a  scientific  account  of  the  evolution 
of  the  planetary  system  from  the  atmosphere  of  nebular  matter, 
which  he,  in  accordance  with  Herschel's  ideas,  supposed  to  have 
originally  surrounded  the  sun ;  and  the  train  of  reasoning  by 
which  he  Avorked  this  out  on  the  lines  I  have  already  indicated, 
was  one  of  mechanical  deduction  from  the  Newtonian  laws  of 
mutual  attraction  and  motion.  That  these  deductions  were  not 
only  in  accordance  with  the  ordinary  conditions  of  the  planetary 
system,  but  were  also  applicable  to  the  exceptional  cases  of  the 
ring  of  Saturn,  and  to  the  intervention  of  a  multitude  of  asteroids, 
in  the  place  of  a  single  planet,  between  Mars  and  Jupiter,  seemed 
to  afford  the  same  kind  of  confirmation  to  Laplace's  theory,  that 
Herschel's  had  derived  from  the  different  degrees  of  condensation 
observable  among  the  celestial  bodies.  And  the  wide  basis  of 
observation  on  which  the  nebular  hypothesis  of  Herschel  was 
erected,  commended  it  to  the  minds  of  many  who  viewed  with 
distrust  the  reasoning  process  by  which  Laplace  deduced  the 
solar  system  from  the  supposed  nebular  atmosphere  of  the 
sun. 

I  have  never  been  able  to  understand  why  this  doctrine  should 
have  been  the  subject  of  so  much  theological  opposition.  It  was 
said  to  have  been  framed  by  Laplace  with  the  express  purpose  of 
"  doing  away  with  the  necessity  for  a  Creator  ;  "  but  though  others 
may  have  used  it  (as  many  are  now  using  the  Darwinian  doctrine) 
as  an  instrument  of  attack  on  Theistic  belief,  there  is  no  trace,  ia 


396  r^ATURE  AND  MAN. 

his  own  exposition  of  it,  of  any  but  that  purely  scientific  concep- 
tion of  orderly  sequence,  under  the  constant  and  uniform  action 
of  physical  forces,  in  which  there  is  assuredly  nothing  anti-theistic. 
Let  it  not  be  forgotten  that  Newton,  the  devoutest  man  of  science 
that  ever  lived,  was  reproached  by  the  theologians  of  his  time  for 
setting  up  forces  of  his  own  invention  as  a  substitute  for  the  power 
of  God  ;  a  charge  of  which  every  one  now  sees  the  absurdity. 
And  yet  Laplace  merely  extended  the  Newtonian  doctrines  of 
force  and  motion  into  the  past,  by  showing  how,  under  their  con- 
tinuous operation,  a  diffused  nebulosity  would  evolve  itself  into 
a  solar  system.  Whence  came  the  mutual  attraction  of  its  par- 
ticles, which  aggregated  them  into  masses,  and  gave  these  masses 
their  movements  of  rotation,  it  was  not  for  him — any  more  than 
for  Newton — to  explain.  To  Laplace  it  must  have  been  apparent 
as  it  is  to  us,  that  the  whole  of  this  process  of  evolution  implies 
a  commencement, — that  however  far  back  we  go  in  time,  we  come' 
to  a  point  at  which  the  mutual  attractions  must  have  begun  to 
exert  themselves, — and  that  as  a  universal  hxat  perfectly  homogeneous 
"  fire-mist  "  (the  only  condition  under  which  it  could  have  existed 
from  eternity)  could  not  of  itself  have  broken  up  into  separate 
parts,  some  account  has  to  be  given  of  its  heterogeneousness,  the 
existence  of  which  has  to  be  assumed  as  the  starting-point  of  the 
process.  Hence  it  is  obvious  that,  however  remote  that  point  to 
which  we  trace  in  thought  the  history  of  our  universe,  we  are  still 
confronted  with  the  impossibility  of  accounting  by  physical  causa- 
tion for  its  commencement ;  and  further,  that  if  we  find  our  only 
explanation  of  this  commencement  in  moral  causality,  we  do  not 
exclude  the  subsequent  perpetual  agency  of  Creative  Will,  because 
in  scientific  reasoning  we  speak  of  it  in  the  language  of  physical 
force.  To  the  clear-seeing  theologian,  the  evolution  of  an  orderly 
Kosmos,  not  by  a  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms,  but  by  the 
continuous  operation  of  mutual  attractions  according  to  a  law 
of  sublime  simplicity,  should  furnish  (as  it  seems  to  rne)  the 
sublimest  exemplification  of  an  Infinite  Intelligence,  working 
out  its  vast  designs  "  without  variableness  or  the  shadow  of 
turning." 

But,  it  may  be  objected,  the  nebular  hypothesis  of  Herschel 
and  Laplace  has  been  disproved  by  subsequent  research.      One 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  397 

after  another  of  the  nebulce,  which  Herschel  regarded  as  con- 
sisting of  unconsolidated  "  fire-mist,"  has  been  resolved  by  the 
superior  power  of  modern  telescopes  into  clusters  of  stars  ;  and 
the  mathematical  reasoning  of  Laplace  has  been  found  not  to 
stand  the  test  of  a  rigorous  scrutiny.  This  may  be  freely  granted ; 
and  yet  the  general  doctrine  that  the  material  universe  has  come 
into  its  present  condition  by  a  process  of  immense  duration,  and 
not  by  a  single  creative  act,  has  received  such  a  vast  amount  of 
support  from  new  and  unexpected  sources,  that  I  have  no  hesita- 
tion in  affirming  it  to  be  accepted  by  all  who  are  most  qualified 
to  judge,  as  having  been  now  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  dis- 
cussion. Instead  of  starting  from  a  hypothetical  postulate,  modern 
science  reasons  backwards, — in  astronomy  as  in  geology, — from 
phenomena  presenting  themselves  to  our  own  observation  ;  and  I 
shall  briefly  notice  the  orders  of  fads  ^ilrich.  seem  to  me  of  the 
greatest  evidentiary  value. 

First  in  importance  among  these,  is  the  certain  distinction 
which  the  Spectroscope  now  enables  the  astronomer  to  draw, 
between  the  nebulae  which  are  clusters  of  stars,  and  those  which 
consist  of  glowing  gas.  To  the  latter  class  belongs  that  great 
nebula  of  Orion,  which  was  long  considered  a  sort  of  "  crucial 
instance "  whereon  the  fate  of  the  nebular  hypothesis  was  to 
turn.  The  prolonged  and  minute  study  which  the  late  Lord 
Rosse  had  made  of  this  nebula,  with  the  unequalled  power  (for 
that  particular  object)  of  his  six-foot  reflector,  had  previously  led 
him  to  this  conclusion ;  but  spectrum-analysis  has  placed  it 
beyond  doubt ;  and  the  fact  acquires  a  new  importance  when  the 
doctrine  of  the  Conservation  of  Energy  is  brought  to  bear  upon  it. 
For  "  a  nebulous  body,  in  order  to  shine  by  its  own  light,  must  be 
"hot,  and  must  be  losing  heat  through  the  very  radiation  by 
"  which  we  see  it.  As  it  cools,  it  must  contract ;  and  this  con- 
"  traction  cannot  cease,  until  it  becomes  either  a  solid  body,  or  a 
"system  of  such  bodies,  revolving  round  each  other  "  (Newcomb). 

Another  fact  of  supreme  importance,  resting  not  only  on  the 
indications  given  by  the  spectroscope,  but  on  chemical  analysis 
of  the  Meteorites,  which  have  now  been  ascertained  to  be  plane- 
tary bodies  revolving  in  regular  orbits  round  the  Sun,  but  to  be 
deflected  from  these  by  the  Earth's  attraction  when  we  cross  their 


398  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

path, — is  the  identity  in  elementary  composition,  not  only  among 
the  bodies  included  in  our  solar  system,  but  throughout  the 
innumerable  solid  and  vaporous  masses  of  which  the  stellar 
universe  is  composed.  And  it  is  not  a  little  curious  that  a  link 
between  these  two  orders  should  be  supplied  by  those  wandering 
bodies — the  Comets — of  which  many  seem  to  belong  to  both ; 
not  properly  belonging  to  our  system,  but  presenting  themselves 
within  it  as  occasional  visitors  from  the  celestial  spaces.  Not 
only  does  this  identity  add  immensely  to  the  strength  of  the 
presumption  as  to  the  identity  in  physical  origin  of  the  entire 
universe,  but  it  also  gives  an  entirely  new  meaning  to  the  facts 
previously  determined  by  astronomy  in  regard  to  the  relative 
specific  gravities  of  the  Sun  and  Planets.  For  whilst  the  Earth 
weighs  niore  than  five  and  a  half  times  as  much  as  a  globe  of 
water  of  the  same  bulk,  Mercury  rather  more  in  proportion,  and 
Venus  and  Mars  nearly  as  much,  the  specific  gravity  of  the  Sun 
is  only  one-fourth  that  of  the  Earth,  that  of  Jupiter  a  little  less, 
that  of  Uranus  and  Neptune  only  a  little  above  that  of  water,  and 
that  of  Saturn  so  much  beloiu  it,  that  if  his  globe  were  thrown  into 
water  it  would  float  like  a  cork.  Now,  so  long  as  nothing  what- 
ever was  known  about  the  chemical  composition  of  the  heavenly 
bodies,  it  might  be  not  -unreasonably  surmised  that  the  several 
planets  might  be  composed  of  different  materials.  But  now  that 
we  have  evidence  of  their  identical  composition,  their  differences 
in  density  suggest  differences  in  degree  of  condensation.  And 
this  suggestion  derives  a  most  remarkable  confirmation  from  the 
fact,  that  the  greatest  density  shows  itself  in  those  smaller  plane- 
tary bodies  which  would  have  cooled  the  most  quickly,  and 
which  have  therefore  more  or  less  nearly  reached  their  final 
stage ;  whilst  the  least  presents  itself  in  the  larger  masses,  whose 
slower  loss  of  heat  would  retard  their  condensation.  The  smallest 
planetary  body  of  whose  constitution  we  have  any  knowledge, 
— the  Moon — is  the  one  whose  consolidation  is  most  complete ; 
even  the  gases  and  vapours  which  form  atmospheres  round  the 
Earth,  Mars,  and  Venus,  being  fixed  in  its  solid  substance.  And 
of  the  relative  rapidity  of  its  cooling,  we  have  further  evidence 
of  the  most  convincing  nature,  in  the  intensity  of  the  former 
volcanic  activity,  which  shows  itself  in  the  multitude  of  gigantic 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  399 

extinct  craters  by  which  its  surface  is  now  made  rugged, — that 
activity  having  been  due  (there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt)  to 
the  rapid  contraction  of  a  solidified  crust  upon  a  still  molten 
interior.  In  the  ring  of  Saturn,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  a  no 
less  striking  exemplification,  not  only  of  the  mode  in  which  the 
detachment  of  the  peripheral  parts  of  the  planetary  masses  may 
be  presumed  to  have  given  origin  to  their  attendant  satellites, 
but  of  that  earlier  stage  of  condensation  which  consists  in  the 
a-Tsregation  of  nebular  matter  into  such  assemblages  of  small 
solid  separate  masses  as  form  the  Meteor-streams  with  which  we 
are  now  familiar,  and  also  (there  is  reason  to  believe)  the  trains 
of  Comets.  For  mathematical  investigation  has  demonstrated 
that  the  ring  of  Saturn,  or  rather  the  system  of  concentric  rings, 
cannot  possibly  be  W/^,— that  it  is  in  the  highest  degree  improb- 
able that  it  can  he  fluid, — whilst  all  the  conditions  of  its  con- 
tinuous equilibrium  are  satisfied  by  the  hypothesis  of  its  consisting 
of  streams  of  separate  small  solid  masses,  revolving  as  satellites 
round  their  primary,  which  may  itself  be  presumed,  from  the 
specific  lightness  of  its  mass,  to  be  still  in.  a  somewhat  similar 
stage  of  incipient  condensation. 

Again,  an  entirely  new  series  of  mathematical  investigations  is 
now  being  followed  out,  as  to  the  effects  at  present  produced  by 
iidal  action  in  retarding  the  Earth's  rotation,  and  the  conclusions 
that  may  be  justifiably  drawn  from  the  backward  projection  (so 
to  speak)  of  that  retardation,  so  as  to  apply  it  to  an  earlier  stage 
of  the  history  of  our  globe  and  its  satellite.  And  one  of  its  results 
affords  so  striking  a  confirmation  of  the  doctrine  that  the  existing 
state  of  things  is  the  resultant  of  a  long  sequence  of  previous 
continuous  change,  that  I  shall  ask  your  special  attention  to  it. 
Assuming  that  the  Moon  was  once  in  a  fluid  state,  the  Earth's 
attraction  must  have  exerted  a  most  powerful  tidal  influence  upon 
it ;  and  the  retarding  effect  of  these  lunar  tides  would  gradually 
diminish  the  rate  of  that  rotation  of  the  Moon  upon  her  own 
axis,  which  theory  would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  she  must  have 
originally  performed.  At  present,  as  every  one  knows,  she  always 
turns  the  same  face  towards  the  Earth,  in  virtue  of  a  rotation  on 
her  axis  which  occupies  exactly  the  same  time  as  her  orbital 
revolution.     Now,  this  phenomenon  has  been  a  standing  puzzle 


400  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

to  astronomers.  Of  course,  it  may  be  said  that  the  Creator,  when 
he  set  the  Moon  in  the  firmamant,  ordained  that  she  should  for 
ever  turn  the  same  face  to  the  Earth.  But  no  man  of  scientific 
habits  of  thought  could  rest  satisfied  with  such  a  notion.  The 
probabilities  were  many  millions  to  one  in  favour  of  some  physical 
cause  for  so  singular  an  eff'ect;  and  such  a  cause  has  recently 
been  discovered  by  Helmholtz,  who  has  shown  that  the  continuous 
retardation  produced  by  ancient  tides  would  at  last  bring  the 
moon  into  the  only  attitude  it  could  permanently  retain  without 
being  subjected  to  further  incessant  disturbance. 

One  more  important  evidentiary  fact  I  have  still  to  adduce, 
which  forms  the  connecting  hnk  between  astronomical  and  geo- 
logical evolution,  and  brings  what  may  be  now  designated  as  the 
scientific  certainties  of  the  past  history  of  our  own  globe,  to  bear 
on  the  history  of  every  other  body  in  the  universe.  I  refer  to  the 
determination  of  the  high  ititernal  temperature  of  the  Earth,  v.'hich 
now  rests  upon  so  wide  a  basis  of  concurrent  observations,  that 
no  one  capable  of  scientifically  appreciating  their  value  any  longer 
entertains  the  smallest  doubt  as  to  the  fact.  And  this  fact  can 
only  be  rationally  accounted  for,  as  the  result  of  gradual  cooling 
of  the  entire  mass  from  a  temperature  higher  than  that  now  pos- 
sessed by  its  hottest  interior,  by  the  radiation  of  heat  from  its 
surface.  For,  as  Sir  William  Thomson  has  tersely  remarked,  "  If 
"  we  were  to  find  a  hot  stone  in  a  field,  we  could  say  with  entire 
"  certainty  that  this  stone  had  been  in  the  fire,  or  some  other  hot 
"place,  within  a  limited  period  of  time." 

Astronomical  Evolution,  then,  lands  us  in  the  idea  of  a  globe 
of  molten  matter,  over  whose  surface  a  crust  is  beginning  to  form  ; 
and  it  is  at  this  point  that  geology  takes  up  the  inquiry,  and  aims 
to  give  a  consistent  history  of  the  long  succession  of  changes 
which  that  crust  has  since  undergone — in  other  words,  to  trace 
the  "Evolution"  of  its  existing  from  its  primitive  condition. 
Here,  again,  two  distinct  lines  of  inquiry  may  be  pursued.  One 
of  these,  leading  us  onward  in  time  from  the  assumed  beginning, 
furnishes  us  with  those  great  dynamical  conceptions,  that  help  us 
to  account  alike  for  the  vast  movements  whose  evidence  we  trace 
in  the  elevation  of  continents  and  of  mountain-chains,  and  for  the 
local   developments   of  heat  which   have    shown   themselves  in 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  401 

volcanic  action  and  in  the  metamorphism  of  sedimentary  rocks ; 
showing  these  to  be  the  mechanical  results  of  such  inequalities  of 
the  rate  of  cooling  of  different  parts  of  the  surface,  as  may  well  be 
conceived  to  arise  from  the  conditions  of  the  previous  conden- 
sation. The  other,  leading  us  backward  from  the  present  to  the 
past,  brings  the  various  agencies  which  we  know  to  be  at  present 
modifying  the  earth's  surface  to  bear  upon  its  previous  history ; 
enabling  us  "  in  the  fall  of  rain  and  the  flow  of  rivers,  in  the 
"  bubble  of  springs  and  the  silence  of  frost,  in  the  quiet  creep  of 
"  glaciers  and  the  tumultuous  rush  of  ocean-waves,  in  the  tremor  of 
"  the  earthquake  and  the  outburst  of  the  volcano,  to  recognize  the 
"same  play  of  terrestrial  forces  by  which  the  framework  of  our 
"continents  has  been  step  by  step  evolved."     (Geikie.) 

I  cannot  suppose  any  one  I  am  now  addressing,  to  be  ignorant 
of  the  doctrine  as  to  which  modern  geologists  are  now,  I  believe, 
in  universal  accord — that  of  continuity  of  change  (not  necessarily 
of  uniformity  in  its  rate)  throughout  the  entire  period  of  the 
earth's  history.  The  old  notion  of  universal  interruptions  has 
given  place  to  that  of  local  changes  analogous  to  those  of  which 
we  have  present  experience ;  that  of  vast  sudden  convulsions,  to 
slow  progressive  elevations  or  subsidences.  The  regular  succes- 
sion of  stratified  deposits,  while  interrupted  in  one  portion  of  the 
earth's  surface,  is  found  to  be  completed  in  another.  And  the 
same  proves  to  be  the  case  in  regard  to  the  succession  of  those 
organic  forms,  whose  remains  are  preserved  to  us  in  those  deposits. 
For  palaeontologists  have  long  since  been  forced,  by  the  "  logic  of 
facts,"  to  abandon  the  idea  that  in  each  of  the  successive 
"  periods "  marked  out  by  the  earlier  stratigraphical  geologists, 
the  earth  was  peopled  by  a  set  of  plants  and  animals  peculiar  to 
that  period — many  of  these  forms  being  traceable  with  certainty, 
in  the  same  spot,  from  one  "  formation  "  to  another ;  whilst,  when 
they  disappear  in  one  locality,  they  may  often  be  found  to  have 
migrated  to  another.  And  thus,  before  the  introduction  of  the 
Darwinian  doctrine,  the  old  notion  of  a  succession  of  entirely  new 
creations  of  Plants  and  Animals,  to  replace  the  Floras  and  Faunas 
which  had,  one  after  another,  been  swept  away  from  the  entire 
surface  of  the  globe,  was  giving  place  to  the  notion  of  continuous 
succession — certain  species  dying  out  from  time  to  time,  as  they 


402  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

have  done  even  within  our  own  limited  experience,  and  these 
being  replaced  by  others,  of  whose  origin,  however,  science  could 
give  no  account. 

Now,  putting  aside  for  the  moment  the  question  of  the  origin 
of  new  forms  of  organic  life,  I  would  ask  you  to  consider  what  is 
the  real  theological  bearing  of  this  general  doctrine  of  continuous 
evolution,  whether  astronomical  or  geological.  As  I  have  endea- 
voured to  make  clear  to  you,  the  very  fact  of  its  beginning  implies 
a  moral  cause  for  that  beginning ;  and  the  experience  we  derive 
from  our  own  sense  of  effort  in  producing  physical  change, 
justifies  us  in  regarding  the  action  of  what  we  scientifically  desig- 
nate the  "  physical  forces,"  as  the  expressions  of  a  continuously 
acting  will.  Now,  I  fearlessly  ask,  which  is  the  higher  theological 
conception, — that  of  the  progressive  unfolding  of  a  plan  conceived 
in  the  first  instance  by  the  Infinite  Wisdom  whose  counsels  have 
not  changed  because  the  end  has  been  seen  even  from  the  begin- 
ning, and  of  the  continuous  exertion,  with  persistent  uniformity, 
of  an  Almighty  Power,  which  "fainteth  not  neither  is  weary," 
during  these  countless  ages  through  which  we  are  carried  back  by 
our  cultured  scientific  imagination ;  or  the  anthropomorphic  fig- 
ment, conceived  in  the  lowest  stage  of  religious  development,  of 
an  artificer  beginning  the  work  of  creation  (according  to  Arch- 
bishop Usher's  chronology)  on  the  23rd  of  October,  4004  B.C., 
proceeding  with  its  successive  stages  for  six  days,  and  then, 
fatigued  with  his  labours,  taking  a  Sabbath  day's  rest,  during 
which  the  newly-created  world  had  to  go  on  as  it  best  could  ? 

Passing,  now,  from  the  evolution  of  the  inorganic  universe  to  that 
of  the  Organic  forms  with  which  our  globe  is  at  present  peopled, 
I  must  content  myself  with  the  general  statement,  that  no  one  who 
possesses  a  competent  knowledge  of  the  facts  brought  to  light  by  the 
ever-widening  extension  of  palseontological  research,  can  do  other- 
wise than  admit  that  they  tend  strongly  and  unmistakably  in  the 
direction  of  the  doctrine  of  ^^;;///;«///7— maintained  by  "descent 
with  modification  "—in  opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  successive 
creations  de  novo.  And  this  doctrine  is  found  to  be  in  such 
singular  accordance  with  the  converging  indications  furnished 
by  ^every  department  of  biological  research,  that,  to  almost  every 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  .403 

unprejudiced  mind,  its  truth  seems  almost  irresistible.  Thus 
the  Zoolo2;ist  and  the  Botanist,  who  have  been  accustomed  to 
classify  their  multitudinous  and  diversified  types  of  vegetable  and 
animal  life  according  to  their  "  natural  affinities,"  find  a  real 
meaning  in  their  classification,  a  new  significance  in  their  terms 
of  relationship,  when  these  are  used  to  represent  what  may  be 
regarded  with  probability  as  actual  community  of  descent.  The 
Morphologist,  who  has  been  accustomed  to  trace  a  "unity  of  type" 
in  each  great  group,  and  especially  to  recognize  this  in  the  presence 
of  rudimentary  parts  which  must  be  entirely  useless  to  the  animals 
that  possess  them,  delights  in  the  new  idea  that  gives  a  perfect 
ratiofiale  of  what  had  previously  seemed  an  inexplicable  superfluity. 
And  the  Embryologist,  who  carries  back  his  studies  to  the  earliest 
phases  of  development,  and  follows  out  the  grand  law  of  Von 
Baer,  "from  the  general  to  the  special,"  in  the  evolution  of  every 
separate  type^  finds  the  extension  of  that  law  from  the  individual 
to  the  whole  succession  of  organic  life,  impart  to  his  soul  a  feeling 
of  grandeur,  like  that  which  the  physical  philosopher  of  two  hun- 
dred years  ago  must  have  experienced  when  he  came  to  recognize 
the  full  significance  of  Newton's  law  of  universal  gravitation. 

I  find  myself  quite  unable  to  understand  why  the  doctrine  of 
organic  evolution  should  have  been  stigmatized  as  atheistic.  We 
have  before  us  the  every-dayy^7(r/  of  the  "  evolution  "  of  plants  and 
animals  of  every  type  from  germ-particles  of  a  common  simplicity; 
and,  scientifically  speaking,  we  must  assign  to  each  of  these  germs 
a  determinate  capacity  for  a  particular  mode  of  development,  in 
virtue  of  which  one  evolves  itself  under  certain  conditions  into  a 
zoophyte,  and  another  (not  originally  distinguishable  from  it)  into 
a  man.  But  'f  we  do  not,  in  so  describing  the  process,  set  aside 
the  Creator — any  more  than  in  scientifically  describing  the  self- 
formation  of  a  crystal — why  should  we  be  charged  with  doing  so, 
if  we  attribute  to  t\\t  primordial  gtrvn.  that  capacity  for  a  particular 
course  of  development^  in  virtue  of  which  it  has  evolved  the  whole 
succession  of  forms  that  has  ultimately  proceeded  from  it, — these 
forms  constantly  becoming  more  complex  in  organization  and 
more  elevated  in  the  scale  of  being  ?  Attach  what  weight  we 
may  to  the  physical  causes  which  have  brought  about  this  evolution, 
I  cannot  see  how  it  is  possible  to  conceive  of  any  but  a  moral 
iS 


404  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

cause  for  the  endowments  that  made  the  primordial  germ  suscep- 
tible of  their  action.  And  of  a  beginning,  we  have  even  clearer 
evidence  in  the  organic  than  in  the  inorganic  world  ;  since  it  may 
be  accounted  as  certain  that  there  could  have  been  no  life  upon 
our  globe,  until  its  surface  had  so  far  cooled  down  that  water 
could  remain  as  a  liquid  in  its  depressions.  And  in  the  so-called 
laws  of  organic  evolution,  I  see  nothing  but  the  orderly  and  con- 
tinuous working-out  of  the  original  intelligent  design. 

There  are  some,  however,  who  feel  no  difficulty  in  accepting 
the  doctrine  of  evolution  as  regards  the  animal  and  vegetable 
creation  generally,  but  nevertheless  cannot  bring  themselves  to 
believe  that  it  is  equally  applicable  to  Man ;  whose  place  in 
Nature,  it  is  contended,  is  psychically  so  far  above  that  of  the 
creatures  which  most  nearly  approach  him  physically,  as  to  justify 
his  being  placed  on  a  different  platform.  Now,  I  recognize  to  its 
fullest  extent  the  weight  of  this  objection  ;  for  whilst  freely  ad- 
mitting (as  the  result  of  my  own  life-long  study  of  comparative 
psychology)  the  possession,  by  many  among  the  higher  animals,  of 
reasoning  powers  and  moral  attributes  which  are  of  the  same  kind 
as  those  of  Man,  however  much  below  his  in  degree,  I  hold  firmly 
to  the  conviction  that  Man,  in  his  condition  of  fullest  development, 
is  essentially  distinguished  from  them  iaW,  first,  by  his  possession 
of  a  self-directing  power,  and  second,  by  his  capacity  for  unlimited 
progress.  "  The  soul,"  says  Francis  Newman,  "  is  that  part  of 
"our  nature  which  is  in  relation  with  the  Infinite;"  and  I  do 
not  know  what  better  definition  could  be  given  of  it  And  I 
should  regard  the  possession  of  this  "soul"  as  fully  justifying 
the  exemption  claimed  for  Man,  if  it  could  be  shown  to  be 
something  distinctly  added  on,  at  any  given  moment  of  his 
existence,  to  his  previous  capacities.  The  very  contrary,  however 
is  the  fact,  as  I  hope  now  to  satisfy  you. 

Every  human  infant  born  into  the  world,  began  its  existence 
nine  months  previously  in  the  condition  of  a  "  jelly-speck,"  not  to 
be  distinguished  by  any  recognizable  characters  from  what  we  may 
suppose  to  have  been  the  primordial  germ  of  the  animal  world  in 
general.  This  first  evolves  itself  into  an  aggregate  of  cells,  corre- 
sponding with  that  which  represents  a  higher  stage  of  Protozoic 
life ;  and  long  before  it  shows  any  trace  of  the  Vertebrate  type  of 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  405 

organization,  this  aggregate  shapes  itself  into  a  gastriila  or  primi- 
tive stomach— the  common  possession,  at  this  stage,  of  all  animals 
that  rise  above  the  protozoic  condition,  which  is  permanently 
represented  in  the  Zoophyte.  It  is  iu  a  certain  spot  of  the  wall 
of  this  gastrula,  that  the  foundation  is  laid,  in  all  vertebrate  em- 
bryos, of  that  which  is  to  become  the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  with 
its  bony  investment ;  and  this  "  primitive  trace  "  of  what  is  to 
constitute  the  essential  part  of  the  human  organism,  does  not 
differ  in  any  essential  particular  from  that  of  a  fish,  a  frog,  a  bird, 
or  any  ordinary  Mammal.  So,  the  early  development  of  the  circu- 
lating and  respiratory  apparatuses  proceeds  upon  a  plan  common 
to  all  Vertebrates ;  even  the  early  Human  embryo  possessing  the 
gill-arches  which  are  to  sprout  into  gills  in  fishes  and  amphibia, 
though  they  afterwards  disappear  in  Man  (as  in  reptiles,  birds,  and 
mammals)  with  the  development  of  the  lungs  and  the  diversion  of 
the  blood-circulation  into  them.  When,  in  the  progress  of  de- 
velopment, the  distinctively  Mammalian  type  comes  to  present  itself, 
there  is  still  nothing  distinctive  of  Man  ;  in  fact,  the  general  con- 
figuration of  the  body  is  shaped  out,  and  most  of  the  principal 
organs  have  shown  their  characteristic  structure,  before  the  embryo 
presents  any  feature  by  which  it  could  be  certainly  distinguished  as 
human.  And  I  may  specially  notice  the  fact  that  the  cerebru7n, 
whose  great  size  and  complexity  of  structure  constitute  man's  most 
important  differential  character,  is  evolved  as  a  sort  of  offset  from 
the  chain  of  sense-ganglia,  which  is  the  real  basis  of  the  brain  in 
all  vertebrates,  and  continues  to  represent  it  in  insects  ;  that  it  at 
first  presents  the  small  relative  size  and  simple  organization  which 
we  find  permanently  retained  in  the  kangaroo  or  rabbit ;  that,  as 
embryonic  life  advances,  it  comes  more  to  resemble  the  brain  of  a 
dog  or  cat,  and  then  that  of  a  monkey — the  distinctly  Human  type 
manifesting  itself  last.  This  is  marked,  not  only  in  the  backward 
as  well  as  forward  extension  of  the  cerebral  hemispheres,  but  in  the 
number  and  depth  of  the  convolutions  which  extend  the  surface  of 
their  outer  ganglionic  layer,  and  bring  it  into  closer  relation  with 
the  capillary  blood-vessels,  on  whose  supply  of  oxygenated  blood 
its  whole  subsequent  activity  is  dependent. 

Now,  I  cannot  suppose  any  one  of  you  to  be  ignorant  of  the 
fact,  that  the  Human  infant  at  its  entrance  into  the  world  is  de  facto 


4o6  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

a  mere  automaton — its  life-movements  for  some  time  being  of  a 
purely  "  reflex  "  character,  such  as  may  be  carried  on  without 
even  any  exercise  of  consciousness.  And  for  long  after  the 
child  has  begun  to  receive  and  register  sensory  impressions, 
has  learned  to  understand  articulate  speech,  and  is  acquiring 
knowledge  of  ideas  as  well  as  of  objects  of  sense,  any  parent  who 
attentively  compares  its  psychical  manifestations  with  those  of  an 
intelligent  dog  will  recognize  the  close  correspondence  between 
them.  The  uncontrolled  dominance  of  impulses  to  action  shows 
itself  in  both  alike  ;  and  in  the  training  of  one,  as  of  the  other,  we 
have  to  make  our  appeal  to  the  strongest  motive.  But  the  time 
comes  when  we  can  fix  the  attention  of  the  Human  child  on  the 
motive  which  he  knows  ought  to  prevail ;  and  in  proportion  as  he 
acquires,  by  habitual  effort,  the  power  of  regulating  the  exercise  of 
his  intellectual  powers,  and  of  controlling  the  action  of  his  moral 
and  emotional  forces,  in  that  proportion  does  he  become  respon- 
sible for  his  conduct,  and  capable  of  further  self-elevation. 

Thus,  then,  it  is  a  simple  ?naiter  of  fact,  revealed  by  continuous 
observation  of  the  history  of  the  Human  individual,  that  the  very 
highest  grade  of  humanity  is  only  attained  by  a  process  of  con- 
timious  ez'olution  from  the  very  lowest  and  simplest.  For  while  his 
bodily  evolution  takes  place  in  accordance  with  the  plan  common  to 
the  whole  animal  creation,  the  same  is  equally  true  of  his  psychical. 
The  infantile  condition  is  the  same  in  all  races  of  mankind,  and 
child-nature  presents  itself  everywhere  under  an  aspect  essentially 
the  same  ;  but  whilst  in  some  races  an  arrest  of  development 
causes  that  nature  to  be  retained  through  the  whole  of  life,  others 
present  an  ascending  series  of  stages,  that  culminate  in  what  we 
regard  as  the  highest  products  of  mental  and  moral  culture.  But 
even  among  the  races  which  as  a  whole  are  most  advanced,  we  find 
not  individuals  only,  but  grievously  large  numbers,  in  whom  a  bad 
heredity  and  depraved  surroundings  have  tended  to  foster  the 
lower  animal  nature  at  the  expense  of  that  which  is  distinctively 
human ;  and  thus  to  rear  a  set  of  creatures  which  are  morally  far 
nearer  akin  to  the  brute,  than  they  are  to  more  elevated  types  of 
humanity.  In  these  degraded  outcasts  we  have  the  true  types  of 
fallen  man  ;  but  it  is  now  coming  to  be  generally  recognized 
by  scientific  men,  that  the  early  history  of  the  race  generally,  as 


EVOLUTION  AND    THEISM.  407 

now  revealed  by  the  study  of  its  primeval  conditions,  has  been 
one  of  upward  progress  ;  and  that  the  time  required  to  bring  it 
up  to  the  capacity  for  recording  its  doings,  even  by  picture-writing, 
must  be  measured  by  thousands — not  of  years — but  of  centuries. 

If,  then,  we  have  to  trace  back  our  ozvn  ancestry  to  a  primeval 
type  now  represented  by  races  whose  limited  capacity  makes  them 
incapable  of  receiving  any  culture  much  higher  than  their  own 
(save  through  an  education  prolonged  through  many  generations), 
why  should  we  shrink  from  attributing  to  these  last  the  ancestry 
to  which  /'//d'/>  bodily  and  mental  organization  distinctly  points? 
And  why  should  we  assume,  in  the  case  of  Man,  a  special  creative 
exertion  of  Divine  power,  when  everything  points  to  a  continuity  of 
the  same  original  plati  of  action,  that  has  previously  manifested 
itself  in  the  progressive  evolution  of  the  highest  mammal  from  the 
primordial  jelly-speck? 

To  myself  the  conception  of  a  continuity  of  action  which 
required  no  departure  to  meet  special  contingencies,  because  the 
plan  was  all-perfect  in  the  beginning,  is  a  far  higher  and  nobler 
one  than  that  of  a  succession  of  interruptions,  such  as  would  be 
involved  in  the  creation  de  novo  of  the  vast  series  of  new  types 
which  Pateontological  study  is  daily  bringing  to  our  knowledge. 
And  in  describing  the  process  of  evolution  in  the  ordinary 
language  of  science,  as  due  to  "  secondary  causes,"  we  no  more 
dispense  with  a  P'irst  Cause,  than  we  do  when  we  speak  of  those 
physical  forces,  which,  from  the  Theistic  point  of  view,  are  so 
many  diverse  modes  of  manifestation  of  one  and  the  same  power. 
Nor  do  we  in  the  least  set  aside  the  idea  of  an  original  design, 
when  we  regard  these  adaptations  which  are  commonly  attributed 
to  special  exertions  of  contriving  power  and  wisdom,  as  the  out- 
come of  an  all-comprehensive  Intelligence  which  foresaw  that  the 
product  would  be  "  good,"  before  calling  into  existence  the  germ 
from  which  it  would  be  evolved.  We  simply,  to  use  the  language 
of  Whewell,  "  transfer  the  notion  of  design  and  end  from  the 
region  of  facts  to  that  of  laws,"  that  is,  from  the  particular  cases 
to  the  general  plan  :  and  find  ourselves  aided  in  our  conception 
of  the  infinity  of  Creative  Wisdom  and  Power,  when  we  regard  it 
as  exerted  in  a  manner  which  shows  that  not  only  the  peopling  of 
the  globe  with  the  plants  and  animals  suited  to  every  phase  of 


4o8  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

its  physical  conditions,  but  the  final  production  of  Man  himself — 
the  heir  of  all  preceding  ages,  with  capacities  that  enable  him  to 
become  but  "  a  little  lower  than  the  angels  " — was  comprehended 
in  the  original  scheme. 

And,  lastly,  I  would  point  out  that  the  doctrine  of  evolution 
presents  its  greatest  attractiveness,  when  viewed,  not  merely  in  its 
scientific  aspect,  as  the  highest  form  of  the  intellectual  interpreta- 
tion of  nature,  but  in  its  moral  bearings — as  one  which  leads  Man 
ever  onwards  and  upwards,  and  encourages  his  brightest  anticipa- 
tions of  the  ultimate  triumph  of  truth  over  error,  of  knowledge 
over  ignorance,  of  right  over  wrong,  of  good  over  evil, — thus 
claiming  the  earnest  advocacy  of  every  one  who  accepts  it  as 
scientifically  true.  And  it  is  under  this  conviction  that  I  have 
now  brouglit  the  subject  before  you  ;  in  the  hope  of,  at  any  rate, 
weakening  what  I  cannot  but  regard  as  the  prejudices  of  some, 
and  strengthening  in  others  that  disposition  to  regard  it  favourably, 
which  its  cordial  acceptance  by  many  of  the  ablest  leaders  of 
religious  thought  may  have  already  engendered. 


XV. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FROM  DESIGN  IN  THE  ORGANIC 

WORLD, 

Reconsidered  in  its  Relation  to  the  Doctrines  of 
Evolution  and  Natural  Selection.* 

\The  Modern  Review,  October,  1884.] 

The  request  which  has  been  courteously  presented  to  me  on  your 
behalf,  that  I  should  address  you  on  a  subject  on  which  scientific 
thought  is  at  present  much  exercised,  and  which  has  a  direct  and 
important  bearing  on  theological  inquiry,  gives  me  an  opportunity 
of  which  I  am  very  glad  to  avail  myself,  of  setting  forth  the 
results  of  the  careful  and,  I  hope,  candid  reconsideration  of  the 
old  Theistic  "  Argument  from  Design  in  the  Organic  World,"  which 
has  been  continually  before  my  mind  from  the  time  when  the 
publication  of  Mr.  Darwin's  "  Origin  of  Species  by  Natural 
Selection  "  brought  its  validity  seriously  into  question. 

You  are  all  familiar  with  the  frequently  repeated  remark,  that 
whenever  science  and  theology  have  come  into  conflict,  theology 
has  had  to  "  go  to  the  wall."  And  there  are  probably  several 
among  you  whose  faith  in  the  old  "  argument  from  design  "  has 
been  more  or  less  seriously  shaken  by  the  confident  assertions  of 
men  of  high  scientific  distinction,  that  the  last  victory  which 
science  has  gained  over  theology  has  been  its  greatest, — consist- 
ing in  nothing  less  than  the  complete  subversion  of  the  whole 
doctrine  of  final  causes.  For,  as  they  affirm,  the  adaptation  of 
means  to  end  which  is  recognizable  in  the  structure  of  plants  and 

*  An   address   delivered   to   the   London    Ministers'    Conference  at  Dr. 
Williams's  Library,  June  6th,  1884. 


4IO  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

animals,  can  now  be  so  fully  accounted  for  by  natural  agencies,  as 
to  afford  no  evidence  whatever  of  an  originating  intention,  a 
creative  purpose. 

Now  if  I  regarded  this  claim  as  scientifically  valid,  I  should 
unhesitatingly  counsel  you  to  abandon  your  former  position 
without  any  attempt  to  defend  it.  For  if  we  look  back  at  the 
results  of  former  conflicts,  we  see  that  nothing  has  been  more 
injurious  to  theology  than  the  persistence  of  theologians  in 
antiquated  error.  We  of  the  present  time  can  only  wonder  at  the 
obstinacy  with  which  the  self-styled  "  orthodox "  have  clung  to 
the  idea  that  the  world  with  its  living  inhabitants  was  created  in 
six  successive  days  of  the  year  4004  B.C.,  the  Creator  resting  from 
his  labours  on  the  seventh  ;  that  our  own  terrestrial  globe  is  the 
fixed  centre  of  the  universe — sun  and  moon,  stars  and  planets, 
revolving  around  it  every  twenty-four  hours  ;  that  not  more  than 
6000  years  have  elapsed  since  man  was  first  called  into  being  ;  and 
that  the  Noachian  Deluge  extended  over  the  whole  globe  and 
destroyed  all  the  animals  then  living  on  its  surface,  except  the  few 
pairs  that  found  a  refuge  in  the  ark.  As  each  of  these  positions 
has  been  successively  impugned  by  scientific  research,  theologians 
have  raised  the  cry  that  the  foundations  of  Christianity  were  being 
undermined ;  and  yet  they  have  now,  tacitly  if  not  openly,  agreed 
to  abandon  them  all,  as  ancient  traditions  altogether  destitute  of 
historical  value.  That  theology  has  gained  and  not  lost  by  this 
abandonment,  I  do  not  suppose  that  any  one  now  doubts  ;  the 
lamp  of  truth  must  always  shine  brighter,  when  no  longer 
darkened  by  the  mists  of  error.  But  theologians  have  not  come 
out  unharmed  from  the  conflict ;  for  they  have  given  their 
opponents  a  right  to  charge  them  with  either  a  wilful  blindness 
to  scientific  truth,  or  an  intellectual  incapacity  to  recognize  it ; 
and  this  lesson  should  not  be  lost  upon  us  of  the  present  time. 

I  cannot  doubt  that  all  whom  I  am  now  addressing  agree  with 
me  in  the  conviction  that  Theology  can  only  maintain  its  ground 
in  the  future,  by  placing  itself  in  accord  with  the  highest  scientific 
thought  of  the  time, — by  readily  accepting  all  that  science  reveals 
to  us  in  regard  to  the  Order  of  Nature, — and  by  rigorously  ab- 
staining from  all  attempts  to  fetter  or  discourage  its  advance. 
Such  has  ever  been  the  teaching  of  one  to  whom  we  all  look  as 


DESIGN  IN  THE   ORGANIC    WORLD.  411 

the  best  exponent  of  liberal  theology,  and  the  influence  of  whose 
writings  is  more  and  more  advancing  its  progress.  Whilst 
strenuously  defending  the  Theistic  position  against  its  scientific  as 
well  as  its  non-scientific  assailants,  Dr.  Martineau  has  ever  cor- 
dially welcomed  every  real  advance  in  science,  not  merely  as 
extending  our  knowledge  of  the  material  universe,  but  as  leading 
us  to  a  more  thorough  recognition  of  its  unity,  its  order,  and  its 
harmony.  And  he  has  shown  us  how,  by  availing  itself  of  the 
highest  and  best  results  of  scientific  investigation,  Theology  is 
expanding  and  elevating  itself  above  the  narrow  limits  of  Mosaic 
anthropomorphism,  so  as  to  reveal  to  us  the  Divine  Thought  as 
pervading  all  space,  and  exerting  itself  in  action  through  all  time. 
It  was  in  this  spirit  that,  two  years  ago,  I  reviewed,  before  a 
different  but  kindred  audience,*  the  bearing  upon  Theistic  belief 
of  that  doctrine  of  the  progressive  evolution  of  the  inorganic 
universe,  which  modern  astronomical  research,  by  the  help  of 
methods  of  observation  altogether  new,  has  now  established 
beyond  reasonable  question.  For,  I  maintained,  if  ever  the 
entire  succession  of  changes  by  which  the  consolidation  of  the 
original  nebular  matter  into  the  multitude  of  suns  and  systems 
that  have  sprung  out  of  it,  shall  be  scientifically  shown  to  be  the 
work  of  physical  forces  acting  in  accordance  with  determinate 
laws,  we  shall  have  only  arrived  at  a  knowledge  of  the  Order  of 
Creation,  and  shall  have  advanced  no  nearer  to  that  of  its  primal 
Cause.  The  physicist  who  deduces  from  the  activities  of  different 
forms  of  matter  certain  "  properties "  which  he  attributes  to 
them,  and  then  uses  these  very  "  properties  "  to  account  for  those 
activities,  is  obviously  reasoning  in  a  circle.  What  he  calls  "  pro- 
perties "  and  "laws"  are  really  hw'i  farms  or  categories  under 
which  he  finds  it  desirable  to  correlate  those  "uniformities  of  co- 
existence and  sequence"  which  his  observation  of  nature  brings 
under  his  cognizance.  "  Why  does  an  apple  fall  to  the  ground  ?  " 
is  a  question  which  has  as  great  a  significance  to  us  now,  as  it  had 
before  Newton  was  led  by  pondering  upon  it  to  the  discovery  of 
the  law  of  gravitation.  For  that  law  only  expresses  the  conditions 
oj  action  of  a  universal  force  tending  to  draw  together  all  masses  of 

♦  "The  Doctrine  of  Evolution  in  its  Relations  to  Theism," — an  address 
delivered  at  Sion  College,  see  p.  384- 


412  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

matter  ;  while  of  the  force  itself  it  gives  no  account  whatever.  We 
recognize  it  by  our  own  consciousness  of  effort  in  lifting  a  weight 
from  the  ground  ;  and  this  recognition  carries  us  from  the  sphere 
of  physical  into  that  of  moral  causation.  For,  as  Sir  John 
Herschel  long  ago  pointed  out,  our  consciousness  of  direct 
personal  causation  in  the  performance  of  a  voluntary  act,  leads  us 
to  regard  what  we  call  the  '*  Forces  of  Nature  "  as  the  emanations 
of  an  all-pervading  will,  and  those  uniformities  in  their  action 
which  we  term  her  "  laws "  as  the  manifestations  of  its  un- 
changing continuity.  As  Dr.  Martineau  has  admirably  expressed 
it,  "  In  whatever  sense,  and  on  whatever  grounds,  we  affirm  the 
"  tenancy  of  our  own  frame  by  the  soul  that  governs  it,  must  we 
"  fill  the  universe  with  the  ever-living  Spirit  of  whose  thought  it  is 
"  the  development."  The  very  conception  of  evolution  involves 
a  beginning ;  and  for  that  beginning,  which  de  facto  excludes  all 
antecedent  physical  agency  (otherwise  it  would  not  be  a  real 
beginning),  none  but  a  moral  cause  can  be  assigned.  And  thus 
the  continuous  uniformity  in  the  evolutionary  process,  which  some 
have  regarded  as  explained  by  the  laws  that  merely  express  it, 
really  testifies  to  the  perfection  of  the  original  design,  the  pro- 
gressive unfolding  of  which  has  never  needed  a  departure  from  it. 
I  have  never  met  with  a  valid  reason  for  regarding  the  relation 
of  the  evolution-doctrine  to  the  organic  world,  as  in  any  respect 
different  from  that  in  which  it  stands  to  the  physical  universe. 
All  the  elders  among  us  were  brought  up  in  that  anthropomorphic 
conception  of  "  special  creations,"  which  seemed  natural  to  the 
childhood  of  our  race,  just  as  it  does  to  the  child-mind  of  the 
present  day.  And  to  the  older  geologists,  who  regarded  the 
successive  geological  "  periods  "  as  marked  off,  one  from  another, 
by  cataclysmic  interruptions  that  involved  the  destruction  of  all 
the  existing  races  of  plants  and  animals,  a  similar  introduction  of 
fresh  forms,  to  re-people  the  newly  modelled  globe  after  each 
cataclysm,  seemed  quite  as  conceivable  as  the  original  creation. 
But  all  geological  and  palseontological  inquiry  has  of  late  so 
decidedly  tended  towards  the  substitution  of  the  idea  of  slow 
continuous  change  for  that  of  violent  convulsionary  disturbances, 
that  when  Mr.  Darwin  showed  that  a  doctrine  of  continuous 
"  descent  with  modification  "  might  be  built  upon  a  really  scien- 


DESIGN  IN  THE   ORGANIC   WORLD.  413 

tific  basis,  it  gained  a  much  more  ready  reception  among  un- 
prejudiced thinkers  than  he  had  himself  ventured  to  expect. 
Many  of  us  had  been  aheady  prepared  to  entertain  it  favourably 
by  the  plausible  and  in  some  respects  forcible  manner  in 
which  a  similar  doctrine  had  been  previously  presented  in  the 
"  Vestiges  of  Creation  ; "  in  reviewing  which  book,  nearly  forty 
years  ago,  I  expressed  myself  as  fully  concurring  with  its  author  in 
regarding  the  idea  of  a  continuous  ascending  succession,  along  which 
the  various  races  of  plants  and  animals  of  the  past  and  present 
epochs,  each  of  them  adapted  to  its  external  conditions  of 
existence,  have  come  into  existence  according  to  "  laws "  of 
genetic  descent,  as  a  far  higher  expression  of  Creative  Wisdom  and 
Power  than  that  of  special  creations  devised  to  meet  each  exigency 
as  it  arose. 

Considered  from  this  point  of  view,  the  Darwinian  doctrine 
of  "evolution,"  even  when  based  on  "natural  selection,"  seems 
to  me  to  have  no  other  bearing.  For  it  is  simply  a  concise 
expression  of  what  is  maintained  to  have  been  an  orderly  and 
continuous  succession  of  phenomena,  referable  to  natural  causes  ; 
and  no  more  excludes  the  idea  of  moral  agency,  than  does  the 
substitution  of  the  idea  of  the  continuous  evolution  of  the  inor- 
ganic universe  for  that  of  the  creation  of  that  universe  in  its 
present  form.  In  the  pursuit  of  biological  as  of  physical  science, 
I  most  fully  recognize  the  essential  importance  of  keeping  clear 
of  what  are  termed  "final  causes,"  or  assumptions  of  purpose, 
and  of  rigorously  limiting  our  study  to  "physical  causation."  But 
the  question  now  before  us, — whether  the  evidences  of  intelligent 
design,  which  theology  has  hitherto  recognized  in  the  structure 
of  organized  beings,  are  or  are  not  any  longer  tenable,  when 
viewed  under  the  new  light  thrown  upon  them  by  the  Darwinian 
lamp,  is  one  which — though  science  has  much  to  say  upon  it — 
it  is  beyond  the  province  of  science  to  decide.  Newton  and 
Laplace  were  both  accused  of  atheism  by  their  contemporaries 
for  setting  up  their  own  conceptions  in  the  place  of  the  action 
of  the  Creator ;  and  you  well  know  that  the  same  charge  has  been 
brought  against  Darwin.  I  shall  endeavour  to  show  you  that  in 
his  case,  as  in  that  of  his  great  predecessors,  the  real  result  of  his 
scientific  work  has  been  to  effect  for  biology  what  they  are  well 


414  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

said  by  Dr.  Whewell  to  have  effected  for  astronomy — the  "  transfer 
"  of  the  notion  of  design  and  end  from  the  region  of  facts  to  that 
"  of  laws." 

For  the  thorough  consideration  of  this  question,  I  think  it 
very  important  that  we  should  start  with  a  clear  conception  of 
what  the  "  Argument  from  Design  "  really  means,  and  with  a  right 
appreciation  of  the  probative  value  of  the  evidence  on  which  it 
rests ;  and  these  will  therefore  be  the  subjects  to  which  I  shall 
first  direct  your  attention. 

It  is  a  mere  truism  to  assert  that  design  implies  a  designer ; 
because  the  definition  of  design  is  "the  intentional  adaptation 
"of  means  to  a  preconceived  end."  We  do  not  perform  any 
voluntary  motion  without  a  preconception  of  the  action  we  "will" 
to  perform.  It  is  this  preconception  of  result  that  constitutes  the 
foundation  of  the  effort  made  to  carry  it  out.  I  may  determine 
the  action  itself;  as  when  I  'will'  to  bend  my  fore-arm  on  my 
arm.  Or  I  may  '  will '  to  do  something — as  to  lift  a  book  from 
the  table,  or  to  carry  a  spoon  to  my  mouth — which  requires  this 
flexion  to  carry  my  purpose  into  effect.  But  no  action,  in  which 
there  is  not  such  a  preconception,  is  "intentional"  or  "volun- 
tary." We  are  constantly  using  the  word  "design"  in  this  sense. 
An  architect  "designs"  a  building;  a  ship-builder  "designs"  a 
ship;  an  artist  "designs"  a  picture,  and  so  on.  In  all  such 
works,  we  unhesitatingly  recognize  an  intentional  adaptation  of 
means  to  a  preconceived  end  (though  the  designer  and  his  pur- 
pose may  be  alike  unknown  to  us),  from  our  personal  experience 
of  other  cases  more  or  less  familiar. 

But  we  have  now  to  deal  with  cases  in  which  we  have  had  no 
such  experience ;  and  to  consider  the  grounds  on  which,  in  any 
individual  instance,  we  should  feel  justified  in  concluding  that 
an  obvious  adaptiveness  has  been  "  intentional,"  or,  in  other 
words,  that  the  object  has  been  "designed"  for  the  use  which 
we  find  it  to  answer.  I  do  not  affirm  that  we  can  in  any  case 
obtain  logical  or  demonstrative  proof  of  such  "  designed  "  adapta- 
tion ;  but  I  think  I  can  make  it  clear  that  this  is  one  of  the 
numerous  instances  in  which  a  convergence  of  separate  probabilities 
acquires  the  probative  value  of  a  moral  certainty. 


DESIGN  IN   THE   ORGANIC   WORLD.  415 

What  we  call  "  demonstration  "  rests  entirely  upon  our  mental 
inability  to  accept   as    true    anything  that  contravenes  the  thing 
affirmed ;   and  if,  in  a  chain  of  demonstrative  reasoning,  every 
link  has  the  strength  of  a  necessary  truth,  we  accept  its  conclusion 
as  having  the  same  validity  as  the  datum  from  which  it  started. 
Now,  I  hold  that  exactly  the  same  state  of  "  conviction  "  may  be 
produced  by  a  concurrence  of  probabilities,  if  these  point  sepa- 
rately and  independently  to  the    same   conclusion,— like  radial 
lines  that  converge  from  different  parts  of  the  circumference  of 
a  circle,  though  none  actually  reach  its  centre.     For  the  result 
of  that  concurrence  may  be  as  irresistibly  probative  as  any  de- 
monstration ;    the   conclusion  to  which  they  all  point  being  one 
which  we  are  compelled  to  accept  by  our  inability  to  conceive 
of  any  other  explanation   of  the  whole  aggregate  of  evidentiary 
facts,  though  any  one  of  them  may  be  otherwise  accounted  for. 
I  am  not  aware   that   this  principle   has   been   discussed   in  any 
treatise  on  logic ;  but  it  is  familiar  to  every  lawyer  who  practises 
in  courts  of  justice;  and  its  validity  cannot,  I  think,  be  questioned 
by  any  one  who  has  studied  the  theory  of  what  is  commonly 
called  "circumstantial"  evidence.     Indeed,  it  would  be  difficult 
to  adduce  a  more  remarkable  example  of  the  stability  of  an  argu- 
ment erected  on  a  broad  basis  of  independent  probabilities,  than 
is  presented  in  the  wonderful  fabric  built  up  by  the  genius  of 
Darwin ;  the  general  acceptance  of  the  evolution-doctrine  resting 
on  exactly  the  same  kind  of  evidence  as  that  on  which  I  base 
the  argument  from  design.     The   most  pronounced  evolutionist 
may  be  challenged  to  pro.iuce  anything  like  a  "demonstration" 
of  any  one  of  his   propositions.     But  (as  I  showed  in  my  Sion 
College   address)  the   concurrence  of  probabilities   suppHed   by 
morphology  and    embryology,  by  physiology   and    palaeontology, 
is  so  complete   as,  in   the    minds  of  those  most   competent   to 
appreciate  their  probative  value,  to  exclude  any  other  hypothesis. 
Those,  therefore,  who  find  in  this  concurrence  a  sufficient  reason 
for  their  assent  to  the  doctrine  of  evolution,  should  be  the  last  to 
impugn  the  validity  of  the  same  mode  of  reasoning,  when  brought 
to  bear  on  the  evidences  of  design  which  are  afforded  by  the  very 
orderliness  of  that  evolution. 

In   applying  this  principle  to  the  question  we  are  now  con- 


4i6  NATURE  AND  MAN, 

sidering,  I  am  quite  willing  to  admit,  in  limine,  that  the  mere 
adaptiveness  of  a  thing  to  a  particular  purpose,  is  often  a  very 
unsafe  ground  for  concluding  that  it  was  devised  for  that  purpose. 
For  cases  are  constantly  occurring,  in  which  we  find  ourselves 
able  to  turn  some  instrument  to  a  use  altogether  different  from 
that  for  which  it  was  intended  by  its  maker ;  and  every  one  who 
lias  had  much  experience  of  changes  of  residence  (as  happened 
to  myself  in  early  life),  has  found  pieces  of  his  furniture  fitting 
into  appropriate  recesses  just  as  exactly  "as  if  they  had  been 
made  for  them."  But  I  rest  my  argument  on  cases  in  which 
the  idea  of  such  casual  adaptiveness  is  altogether  excluded  by  the 
accumulation  of  separate  and  independent  evidentiary  facts,  all 
indicative  of  the  same  purpose ;  and  I  shall  further  show  you  that 
it  is  not  invalidated  (as  Professor  Huxley  has  maintained  it  to  be) 
by  a  possible  misapprehension  of  that  purpose ;  the  evidence  of 
a  "design"  being  the  same,  even  though  we  may  be  mistaken  as 
to  what  that  design  was. 

Necessarily  limiting  myself  to  two  typical  illustrations,  I  shall 
select  one  of  a  very  simple  nature,  in  which  conviction  is  produced 
by  the  accumulation  of  similar  evidentiary  probabilities,  each  of 
which — taken  individually — is  of  the  slightest  character  and  the 
lowest  value,  their  probative  force  depending  entirely  on  their 
collocation ;  whilst  in  the  other  I  shall  show  that  our  conviction 
rests  on  the  elaborate  character  of  the  constructive  arrangements 
by  which  a  small  number  of  separate  but  dissimilar  adaptations 
are  so  combined  as  to  work  out  a  single  product. 

About  thirty  years  ago  we  began  to  hear  a  good  deal  about 
"flint  implements."  They  had  not  been  altogether  unknown 
previously,  as  specimens  of  them  were  to  be  found  in  museums 
of  antiquities ;  but  they  had  never  been  brought  to  light  in  such 
numbers,  and  under  such  very  peculiar  circumstances,  as  in  the 
working  of  the  gravel  beds  of  the  valley  of  the  Somme,  near 
Abbeville  and  Amiens.  The  matter  was  brought  into  notice  by 
M.  Boucher  de  Perthes,  a  distinguished  antiquarian  and  collector 
at  Abbeville.  English  men  of  science  went  over  to  study  the 
conditions  under  which  these  flint  implements  were  found ;  and 
very  soon  satisfied  themselves  of  the  genuineness  and  importance 
of  this  discovery.     There  were  many  who  at  first  denied  that  they 


DESIGN  IN   THE   ORGANIC    WORLD.  4^7 

afforded  any  evidence  of  the  existence  of  man  at  the  time  when 
these  gravel-beds  were  deposited ;  maintaining  that  their  peculiar 
shapes  had  been  given  by  accidental  collisions.     I  do  not  know 
that  any  sane  man  now  questions  their  human  production ;  and 
I  ask  you  to  follow  me  in  the  examination  of  the  evidence  which 
has  wrought  that  universal  conviction.     We  are  all  familiar  with 
the  opening  passage  of  Paley's  "  Natural  Theology : "— "  In  crossing 
"  a  heath,  suppose  I  pitched  my  foot  against  a  s/one,  and  were 
"  asked  how  the  stone  came  to  be  there,  I  might  possibly  answer 
"  that,  for  anything  I  knew  to  the  contrary,  it  had  lain  there  for 
*'  ever :  nor  would  it  perhaps  be  very  easy  to  show  the  absurdity 
"of  this  answer.     But  suppose   1   had  found  a  waU/i  upon  the 
"  ground,  and  it  should  be  inquired  how  the  watch  happened  to 
"  be  in  that  place,  I  should  hardly  think  of  the  answer  which  I 
"had  before  given — that,  for  anything  I  knew,  the  watch  might 
"  have  always  been  there  "     Now,  if  you  were  to   "  pitch  your 
foot"  against   one   of  these  Jlin^  implements,  you  would  find  it 
very  difficult  to  account   for  its  condition  by  any   hypothesis  of 
accidental    configuration.       Flints    are    found,     in    considerable 
numbers,  wherever   there  has   been   a   great  denudation  of  the 
chalk ;  those  originally  embedded  in  it  having  been  left  on  the 
surface  of  the  ground.     You  will  generally  find  them  whole,  but 
not  unfrequently   they  have   undergone  fracture.     If,  in  walking 
through  a  chalk  country,  you  look  at  a  heap  of  flints   collected 
by  the  roadside  for  mending  the  road,  you  will  find  the  greater 
part  of  them  entire,  having  shapes  that  suggest  to  the  naturalist 
the  forms  of  the  sponges,  by  the  silicification  of  which  they  were 
originally  produced.     You  will  doubtless  find  some  broken ;  but 
you  will  never  meet  with  one  that  even  remotely  resembles  the 
characteristic  "flint  implement"  of  the   Amiens   and    Abbeville 
gravels.     They  may  have  one  or  two,  or  perhaps  half  a  dozen, 
fractured  surfaces ;  but  these  are  quite  irregular,  having  no  rela- 
tion one  to  another.     Now,  a  "flint  implement"  exhibits,  perhaps, 
fifty  fractures  ;  and  they  are  all  so  related  in  size  and  position  as 
to  bring  out  a  very  definite  shape.     Yet  this  consideration  alone 
did  not  by  any  means  satisfy  those  who  were  unwilling  to  admit 
the  conclusion  that  this  shape  had  been  worked  out  by  human 
hands.       I    well   remember   that   when    these   objects  were   first 


41 8  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

brought  into  public  notice,  there  were  many  persons  who  said, 
"  The  shaping  of  these  flints  is  merely  accidental ;  the  flint  fell 
''into  a  river  in  which  there  were  many  stones  knocking  about, 
"  and  the  fractures  have  been  produced  by  the  flint  having  got, 
"so  to  speak,  under  a  number  of  hammers  ;  so  that,  a  bit  having 
"  been  broken  away  here  and  a  bit  there,  it  has  come  to  be  shaped 
"as  it  is  now  found."  I  will  "not  say  that  this  is  an  absolutely 
impossible  supposition  with  respect  to  any  single  example ;  but 
when  we  find  numbers  of  these  flints,  all  showing  the  same  form, 
in  one  gravel  bed, — when  we  meet  with  forms  exactly  similar  in 
other  gravel  beds — and  when  we  learn  that  exactly  similar  flints 
are  used  at  the  present  time  by  peoples  (some  of  the  hill  tribes 
of  India,  for  instance)  among  whom  iron  implements  have  not 
yet  found  their  way,  the  implements  being  held  in  a  cleft  stick, 
and  bound  round  by  a  leather  thong, — then,  I  think,  we  have  an 
accumulation  of  evidence  which  makes  it  inconceivable  that  these 
gravel  flints,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  owed  their  shape  to  any- 
thing else  than  human  handiwork.  But  besides  these  large  and 
powerful  implements,  there  are  also  a  number  of  other  kinds. 
Some  of  these,  though  smaller,  are  of  the  same  general  shape, 
each  showing  a  similar  series  of  regularly  disposed  fractures. 
But  there  are  also  found,  in  the  same  beds  and  in  the  same 
numbers,  smaller  "flakes"  of  flint,  whose  shapes  might  more 
easily  be  supposed  to  have  been  accidentally  acquired,  for  many 
of  them  exhibit  only  two  fractured  surfaces,  indicative  of  two 
knocks  ;  so  that  it  would  be  by  no  means  inconceivable  that  any 
single  flake  had  been  casually  struck  off  by  a  second  blow  from 
a  flint  which  had  already  sustained  a  fracture  nearly  in  the  same 
direction.  But  when  we  look  at  a  number  of  these  found  together, 
and  when  we  know  that  similar  flakes  are  used  as  cutting  instru- 
ments at  the  present  time  by  some  of  the  survivors  of  the  old 
"flint  folk"  (being  often  retained  for  sacrificial  purposes,  long 
after  the  use  of  metallic  cutting  instruments  has  become  general), 
then  we  come  to  feel  sure  that  even  these  small  flakes  must  have 
been  struck  off  with  a  purpose. 

Such  is  the  cumulative  argument  that  I  would  draw  from  a 
consideration  of  this  case.  Even  if  we  admit  it  as  conceivable 
that  any  single  flint  implement,  or  a  small  number  of  implements, 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  419 

might  have  derived  their  regular  shape  from  a  number  of  acci- 
dental blows,  and  that  the  people  who  now  use  such  instruments 
might  have  adopted  and  turned  to  account  such  as  thus  came  to 
their  hands  ready  made,  I  hold  it  impossible  for  any  one  who 
brings  an  unprejudiced  mind  to  the  examination  of  a  sufficiently 
large  collection  of  them,  brought  from  localities  widely  remote 
from  each  other,  to  come  to  any  oth'er  conclusion  than  that  they 
have  been  shaped  by  human  handiwork. 

I  might  carry  this  argument  from  the  "  palaeolithic  "  to  the 
"neolithic"  forms;  in  the  latter  of  which  smooth  surfaces  and 
sharp  continuous  edges  have  been  given  by  friction  on  other 
stones.  It  is  true  that  every  pebble  of  a  shingle  beach  exhibits 
the  result  of  similar  attrition  against  other  pebbles,  in  the  shaping 
and  smoothing  of  its  surface ;  but  any  one  who  should  maintain 
that  a  characteristic  flint  implement  of  the  neolithic  kind  could 
have  got  its  shape  and  polish  from  any  such  casual  milling,  would 
be  accounted  destitute  of  common  sense. 

Now,  although  we  can  assign  a  use  for  each  kind  of  implement, 
it  does  not  at  all  follow  that  such  was  the  use  for  which  it  was 
designed  by  its  maker ;  but  the  argument  that  it  had  a  maker,  and 
that  he  designed  it  for  sovie  purpose,  is  not  in  the  least  weakened 
by  this  uncertainty.  And  I  shall  hereafter  show  that  we  are  justi- 
fied by  exactly  the  same  kind  of  evidence,  in  distinguishing  the 
variations  in  organized  structures,  which  persistently  take  place 
in  definite  directions,  and  culminate  in  the  evolution  of  a  more 
elevated  type,  from  those  "  aimless  "  variations  which  correspond 
to  the  accidental  fractures  of  flints. 

From  one  of  the  earliest  products  of  human  ingenuity  I  now 
pass  to  one  of  the  latest — the  Walter  printing-press,  which  I  first 
saw  in  operation  in  the  Great  Exhibition  of  1862,  and  which  em- 
bodies one  of  the  most  marvellous  combinations  of  different  actions, 
all  related  to  one  and  the  same  end,  that  I  have  ever  seen  in  any 
single  machine.  In  fact,  it  more  impressed  me  with  its  resem- 
blance to  an  organized  structure,  than  any  other  piece  of  mechanism 
that  I  am  acquainted  with.  If  you  were  to  join  on  to  the  Walter 
printing-press  the  paper-making  machine,  which  is  worked  sepa- 
rately for  convenience  merely,  you  might  put  in  paper-pulp  in  one 
end,  and  this  would  come  out  at  the  other  end  as  printed  Times 


420  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

newspapers,  at  the  rate  of  15,000  per  hour,  without  any  liuman 
intervention.  For  the  paper-making  machine  is  now  so  perfected, 
that  a  continuous  sheet  can  be  produced  of  any  length  desired. 
Rolls  three  miles  long  are  brought  to  the  Times  printing-office,  and 
put  into  the  machine  :  the  paper,  as  it  is  unrolled,  is  damped 
through  by  passing  over  a  hollow  roller  pierced  with  multitudes 
of  small  holes,  through  which  water  is  ejected  from  the  inside ; 
and  the  superfluous  moisture  is  then  squeezed  out  by  passing  the 
paper  between  another  pair  of  rollers,  so  that  it  is  prepared  to  re- 
ceive the  impression.  Then  there  are  a  number  of  most  elaborate 
and  beautiful  contrivances,  by  which  for  the  flat  "  form "  of  the 
ordinary  printing-press  is  substituted  a  stereotype  plate,  wrapping 
completely  round  a  cylinder,  the  continuous  revolution  of  which  at 
a  very  rapid  rate  impresses  the  paper  that  is  made  to  pass  over  it. 
When  the  compositor  has  finished  setting  up  his  type,  and  the 
proof  has  been  taken,  read,  and  corrected,  so  that  the  "form" 
can  be  "  made  up,"  an  impression  of  it  is  taken  off  on  a  sheet  of 
damp  papier  mache ;  and  this,  having  been  bent  round  the  interior 
of  a  hollow  cylinder  and  rapidly  dried,  serves  as  the  mould  from 
which  a  cast  is  made  in  type-metal,  exactly  representing  on  a 
cylindrical  surface  the  flat  type-surface  of  the  "  form."  This 
cast,  after  being  examined  for  defects,  which  are  rapidly  repaired, 
is  fitted  on  the  printing-cylinder  ;  which  is  thus  made  ready,  in  a 
wonderfully  short  space  of  time,  for  impressing  the  paper  which  is 
to  pass  over  it,  with  the  "  matter  "  of  which  the  original  "  form  " 
was  composed.  As  the  paper  has  to  be  printed  on  both  sides, 
two  such  cylinders  are  needed  ;  and  the  sheet,  having  been  printed 
on  one  side  by  passing  over  the  first,  is  printed  on  the  other  by 
being  conducted  over  the  second.  Another  set  of  beautiful  and 
yet  simple  contrivances  is  provided  for  distributing  the  ink  with 
the  most  perfect  uniformity,  and  for  preventing  any  accidental 
deficiency,  such  as  might  be  produced  by  an  air-bubble,  from 
leaving  a  blank  on  the  type.  After  having  passed  over  both 
cylinders,  the  continuous  roll  passes  through  a  cutting-machine, 
which  cuts  off  the  sheets  one  after  another  at  the  proper  length ; 
and  these  fall  from  above  to  one  and  the  other  alternately  of  two 
boys  who  receive  the  sheets  and  lay  them  in  two  piles. 

Now,  could  any  one  who  should  see  such  a  machine  in  opera- 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  421 

tion,  doubt  that  every  part  of  it  had  been  constructed  with  a  view 
to  a  preconceived  purpose,  whatever  he  might  suppose  that  pur- 
pose to  be  ?  An  iUiterate  savage  who  knows  nothing  about  the 
meaning  of  Times  newspapers,  would  none  the  less  (if  he  had  a 
capacity  for  reasoning  upon  the  matter  at  all)  recognize  an  intelli- 
gent purpose  in  the  construction  of  the  machine.  But  it  is  by  him 
who  knows  something  of  the  difficulties  which  baffled  all  previous 
attempts  at  printing  from  a  continuously  revolving  cylinder,  and 
can  thus  appreciate  the  beautiful  simplicity  of  the  method  by 
which  these  have  been  overcome,  and  by  which  the  machine  has 
been  brought  to  its  present  perfection,  that  the  greatest  admiration 
will  be  felt  for  the  ability  with  which  so  many  separate  and  dis- 
similar arrangements  have  been  brought  into  consentaneous  and 
mutually  related  action,  so  as  to  concur  towards  a  common  result, 
which  the  machine  would  altogether  fail  to  work  out,  if  any  one 
of  its  processes  were  to  suffer  derangement. 

Now,  in  the  first  of  these  cases  we  have  a  very  close  parallel  to 
those  forms  of  Vegetable  and  Animal  life,  which  are  characterized 
by  the  Biologist  as  of  "low  organization  ;"  by  which  is  meant  that 
there  is  comparatively  little  differentiation  in  the  structure  of  their 
several  parts,  which  are  often  repeated  almost  without  limit,  per- 
forming actions  identically  the  same.  And  yet  in  these,  as  in  the 
collocation  of  the  individual  fractures  which  have  shaped  out  a  flint 
implement,  we  see  evidence  of  a  plan,  in  the  orderly  arrangement 
of  these  parts,  and  in  the  adaptiveness  of  their  combined  action  to 
the  well-being  of  the  organism  as  a  whole.  Look,  for  example,  at 
a  sea-anemone  in  the  act  of  feeding  ;  and  see  how  its  multiple  ten- 
tacles attach  themselves  to  a  piece  of  fish,  or  to  the  shell  of  a 
mussel  or  periwinkle,  and  draw  it  by  their  united  contraction 
into  the  creature's  stomach.  The  adaptation  is  not  less  perfect, 
because  the  action  is  so  simple ;  nothing  could  be  conceived 
more  suitable  to  the  conditions  under  which  the  sea-anemone 
lives ;  and  the  multiplication  of  similar  parts,  so  disposed  as  to 
enable  them  to  work  together  to  a  common  end,  seems  to  me  as 
clear  an  evidence  of  "designed"  adaptation  in  the  sea-anemone, 
as  it  is  admitted  to  l)e  in  the  "  flint  implement."  But,  as  we 
ascend  the  scale  of  animal  life,  we  find  this  repetition  of  similar 
parts  giving   place  to  differentiation,    alike   in   structure   and    in 


422  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

action  ;  and  in  proportion  as  each  kind  of  functional  activity 
becomes  limited  to  a  particular  organ,  does  the  mutual  depend- 
ence of  the  several  parts  of  the  organism  necessarily  become  more 
intimate.  With  this  functional  limitation  we  commonly  find  an 
increasing  complexity  of  structure,  which  enables  the  function  to 
be  more  effectively  performed;  and  thus  the  body  of  any  "highly 
organized  "  animal  consists  of  a  number  of  dissimilar  organs,  each 
— like  the  several  parts  of  the  Walter  press — doing  its  own  proper 
work,  but  thereby  contributing,  at  the  same  time,  to  maintain  the 
activity  of  the  rest. 

It  has  been  on  this  marked  adaptiveness  of  particular  organs 
to  the  kinds  of  action  they  respectively  perform,  that  the  "  argu- 
ment from  design  "  has  been  commonly  based ;  and  no  case  of 
this  adaptation  has  been  more  frequently  dwelt  upon,  as  showing 
in  its  perfection  the  most  obvious  and  convincing  evidence  of 
"  design  "  than  the  human  eye.  The  perfection  of  this  adaptation, 
however,  has  been  partially  denied  by  several  modern  writers,  who 
have  based  their  denial  on  a  statement  contained  in  a  most 
interesting  and  instructive  lecture  on  "Tiie  Eye  and  Vision," 
given  some  years  ago  by  my  very  distinguished  friend.  Professor 
Helmholtz.*  The  first  part  of  this  lecture  is  devoted  to  an  ex- 
position of  the  structure  and  actions  of  the  eye,  considered  merely 
as  an  optical  instrument,  and  of  those  more  recent  researches, 
which  have  shown  that,  in  addition  to  retinal  defects  previously 
known,  the  eye  is  not  perfectly  corrected  for  either  spherical  or 
chromatic  aberration,  that  the  crystalUne  lens  has  by  no  means  the 
perfect  clearness  it  has  been  supposed  to  possess,  and  that  its 
fibrous  structure  produces  an  irregular  radiation  in  the  image  of 
any  single  bright  point.  "  Now,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,"  con- 
tinues the  lecturer,  "  that  if  an  optician  wanted  to  sell  me  an 
"instrument  which  had  all  these  defects,  I  should  think  myself 
"quite  justified  in  blaming  his  carelessness  in  the  strongest  terms, 
"and  giving  him  back  his  instrument."  f 

Every  one  who  has  any  knowledge  of  theological  controversy, 
will  recollect  how  frequendy  the  charge  has  been  justly  raised  of 

•  "  Popular  Lectures  on  Scientific  Subjects."   Translated  by  Dr.  Atkinson, 
London,  1873. 
t  Ibid.,  p.  219, 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  423 

unfairness  of  quotation  ;  a  single  passage,  detached  from  its  con- 
text, often  conveying  a  meaning    altogether    different  from  that 
which  it  bears  when  taken  with    its  context,  so  that  even  "the 
"devil  can  cite  Scrii)ture  for  his  purpose."     Those  who  take  the 
anti-theological  side  are  specially    bound,  as  it  seems  to  me,  to 
abstain  from  doing  the  very  thing  for  which  they  would  severely 
blame  their  opponents  ;  and  yet  I  have  seldom  met  with  a  case 
so  unfair,   as  the  citation  of  this  statement   without  any   of  the 
qualifications  which  it  subsequently  receives.     Thus,  after  show- 
ing that  these  defects  scarcely  reveal  themselves  in  our  ordinary 
vision — some  of  them  requiring  most  refined  methods  of  observa- 
tion for  their  detection — Professor  Helmholtz  continues  :    "  If  I 
"am  asked  why  I  have  spent  so  much  time  in  explaining  the  imper- 
"  fection  of  the  eye,  I  answer,  as  I  said  at  first,  that  I  have  not  done 
"so  in  order  to  depreciate  the  performances  of  this  wonderful 
"organ,  or  to  diminish  our  admiration  of  its  construction.     It  was 
"  my  object  to  make  my  readers  understand,  at  the  outset  of  our 
"  inquiry,  that  it  is  not  any  mechanical  perfection  of  the  organs 
"  of  our   senses  which  secures  for  us  such  wonderfully  true  and 
"  exact  impressions  of  the  outer  world.     The  extraordinary  value 
"  of  the  eye  depends  on  tlie  way  in  which  we  use  it  :  its  perfection 
"is  practical,  not  absolute,  consisting  not  in  the  avoidance  of  every 
"error,  but  in  the  f;ict  that  all  its  defects  do  not  prevent  its  render- 
"  ing  us  the  most  important  and  varied  services."     This  "  practical 
"perfection"  he  afterwards  defines  as  "adaptation  to  the  wants  of 
"the  organism  ;"  the  defects  of  the  eye  as  an  optical  instrument 
being  "  all  so  counteracted,  that  the  inexactness  of  the  image  which 
"results  from  their  presence  very  little  exceeds,  under  ordinary 
"conditions  of  illumination,  the  limits  which  are  set  to  the  delicacy 
♦'of  sensation  by  the  dimensions  of  the  retinal  cones."  * 

An  optical  defect  which  has  long  been  known  to  ophthalmolo- 
gists, —  the  inferiority  in  the  sensitiveness  of  the  retinal  surface 
generally,  to  that  of  the  central  spot  known  as  the  macula  lutea, — 
is  shown  by  Professor  Helmholtz  to  be  fully  compensated  by  the 
facility  and  rapidity  with  which  we  move  the  eye,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  bring  the  image  of  the  object,  or  of  any  part  of  the  object, 
which  we  wish   to  examine  minutely,  upon  this  sensitive  spot ; 

*   "  Popular  Lectures,"  p.  226. 


424  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

whilst  the  field  over  which  our  vision  ranges  with  sufficient  distinct- 
ness to  see  our  special  object  in  combination  with  its  surroundings, 
is  far  larger  than  is  attainable  in  any  optical  instrument  of  human 
contrivance. 

I  venture  to  think,  moreover,  that  my  special  experience  as  a 
microscopist  has  given  me  the  means  of  adding  something  to 
Professor  Helmholtz's  demonstration  of  the  practical  efficiency  of 
the  eye. 

Until  recently,  it  has  not  been  found  possible  by  the  most 
skilful  constructors  of  the  microscope  to  produce  object-glasses  of 
high  power  and  wide  angular  aperture,  which  should  be  perfectly 
free  from  both  spherical  and  chromatic  aberration.  This,  however, 
has  recently  been  accomplished  by  what  is  called  the  "oil-immersion" 
system  ;  but  the  correction  can  only  be  perfectly  made  for  a  certain 
relative  position  of  the  conjugate  foci ; — that  is,  when  the  object  is 
at  the  precise  distance  in  front  of  the  lens,  and  its  image  is  formed 
at  the  precise  distance  behind  it,  for  which  it  is  adjusted  by  the 
maker.  Hence,  the  principal  continental  constructor  of  these 
lenses,  Zeiss,  of  Jena,  makes  two  forms  of  each  power  :  one  for 
the  short  8-inch  body  of  the  microscopes  generally  used  on  the 
Continent,  and  one  for  the  long  jo-inch  English  body.  Neither 
of  such  object-glasses  will  work  perfectly  with  a  microscope  of  the 
other  length.  For,  in  order  that  its  image  may  be  projected  at 
ten  inches'  distance,  the  object  must  be  brought  nearer  to  the 
objective  than  when  its  image  is  formed  at  eight  inches'  distance  ; 
and  this  diminution  will  sensibly  disturb  the  performance,  on  the 
English  microscope,  of  the  combination  which  was  perfectly  cor- 
rected for  the  Continental  microscope ;  whilst  a  disturbance  in  the 
opposite  direction  will  be  produced  by  the  increase  of  distance 
between  the  object  and  the  objective,  which  becomes  necessary 
when  an  objective  corrected  for  the  long  English  body  is  used 
with  a  short  Continental  microscope.  These  disturbances  will 
alike  affect  the  chromatic  and  the  spherical  aberration ;  and 
there  is  no  known  method  by  which  they  can  be  prevented. 
In  fact,  I  believe  I  may  say  that  it  is  demonstrable  that  no 
combination  could  be  constructed,  which  should  give  perfectly 
aplanatic  and  achromatic  images  at  different  focal  distances. 

Mark,  now,  the  superiority  of  the  eye.    In  its  normal  condition, 


DESIGxV  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  425 

this  wonderful  organ  possesses  a  power  to  which  no  optical  instru- 
ment of  human  construction  can  show  the  remotest  parallelism, — 
that  of  adjusting  itself  to  differences  of  focal  distance.  Thus,  if  I 
close  one  eye,  and  hold  up  my  finger  between  my  other  eye  and 
the  clock  at  the  far  end  of  the  room,  I  cannot  see  both  of  them 
distinctly  at  the  same  time,  because,  as  they  are  at  different  dis- 
tances from  my  eye,  their  pictures  on  my  retina  cannot  both  be 
distinct.  But,  without  moving  either  my  head  or  my  eye,  I  can 
so  "  focus "  my  eye  on  either  as  to  see  it  distinctly,  the  other 
becoming  hazy.  This  we  all  constantly  do  without  the  least 
knowledge  of  the  mechanism  by  which  it  is  effected  :  and  all  that 
the  most  careful  and  refined  investigation  has  revealed  to  the 
Physiologist,  is  that  the  focal  adjustment  is  made  by  a  change  in 
the  curvature  of  the  crystalline  lens  ;  its  curvature  being  increased 
when  the  rays  that  fall  upon  it  are  more  divergent,  because  pro- 
ceeding from  a  nearer  object;  and  being  diminished  when  the 
rays,  proceeding  from  a  more  distant  object,  are  less  divergent ; — 
so  as  in  each  case  to  bring  them  to  a  focus  on  the  retina.  This 
change  of  curvature  is  produced,  it  is  believed,  by  the  action  of 
the  ciliary  muscle  which  surrounds  the  lens  ;  but  hoiv  that  action 
is  called  forth  we  do  not  know.  Indeed,  we  are  quite  unconscious 
that  we  are  putting  it  into  contraction,  I  simply  determine,  "  I 
"  will  look  at  the  clock,"  or,  "  I  will  look  at  my  finger,"  and  my 
eye  adjusts  itself  accordingly.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  I  were  to 
look  with  a  telescope,  first  at  a  watch-face  a  few  feet  off,  and  then 
at  a  church-clock  at  a  distance,  I  should  have  to  diminish  the 
distance  between  the  object-glass  and  the  eye-piece ;  and  I  cannot 
conceive  of  any  optical  mechanism  by  which  the  telescope  could 
be  enabled  to  make  this  adjustment/^/-  itself.  That  the  eye  should 
be  provided  with  such  a  mechanism,  has  always  seemed  to  me  a 
most  wonderful  evidence  of  intelligent  design  ;  and  the  importance 
of  this  provision  in  our  daily  life  is  so  great  (as  every  one  knows  in 
whom  it  is  even  partially  deficient*),  as  to  outweigh  beyond  all 

*  While  a  person  with  good  ordinary  vision  has  a  range  of  focal  adjust- 
ment from  six  or  eight  inches  (ten  inches  being  the  ordinary  "  reading  distance  ") 
to  as  many  miles,  that  of  a  "short-sighted  "  person  is  limited  to  near  objects, 
and  that  of  an  elderly  "  long-sighted  "  person  to  distant  objects.  A  complete 
want  of  power  to  adjust  the  focus  of  the  eyes  is  seldom  met  with  ;  but  some- 
times occurs  as  one  of  the  odd  local  paralyses  often  left  for  a  time  by  an  attack 
of  diphtheria. 


426  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

comparison  the  slight  want  of  optical  perfection  wliich — as  I  have 
already  shown  you — is  inseparable  from  it. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  fact  that  it  is  only  in  the 
sensitive  spot  of  the  retina,  the  macula  lufea,  that  we  have  the 
most  perfect  provision,  in  the  elaborateness  of  its  structure,  for  the 
reception  and  transmission  of  the  visual  picture.  The  "  rods," 
and  "  cones,"  as  they  are  called,  of  that  spot  are  much  smaller 
tlian  they  are  in  any  other  part  of  the  retinal  surface ;  and  our 
vision  of  objects  whose  picture  falls  upon  it  is  proportionately 
distinct  and  minute.  Now  to  me  it  seems  that  the  inferior  visual 
perfection  of  the  rest  of  the  retina,  far  from  being  disadvantageous, 
is  a  positive  advantage.  How  completely  the  disadvantage  is 
compensated  by  the  facility  with  which  we  move  our  eyes,  I  have 
already  shown  in  Professor  Helmholtz's  own  words.  The  direction 
of  their  axes  which  is  required  to  bring  upon  the  macula  lutea  the 
image  of  any  object  at  which  we  wish  to  look,  is  given  without 
any  conscious  exertion  of  our  own ;  we  have  only  to  "  will  "  to 
look  at  the  object,  and  the  muscles  of  our  eyes  automatically  bring 
their  axes  into  convergence  upon  it.  If  you  look  at  the  eyes  of  a 
person  who  is  reading  or  writing,  you  will  see  them  move  from  left 
to  right  as  he  follows  each  line  across  the  page,  and  then  turn 
suddenly  to  the  left  again  as  he  begins  the  next  line  ;  and  yet  he 
is  not  conscious  of  giving  them  any  such  direction.  So,  again,  if 
we  fix  our  gaze  on  any  object,  and  move  our  head  upwards  or 
downwards,  or  from  side  to  side,  another  person  looking  at  our 
eyes  will  see  them  move  in  the  opposite  direction,  so  that  their 
axes  continue  to  point  to  the  object  at  which  we  are  looking.* 
Now  while  the  disadvantage  of  the  limitation  of  distinct  vision  to 
the  macula  lutea  is  thus  fully  compensated,  I  hold  that  this  limita- 
tion is  postively  advantageous  in  this  way, —  that  we  see  the  object, 
or  the  part  of  the  object,  at  which  we  will  to  look,  with  much  g?-eater 
distinctness  than  we  should  do  if  the  whole  of  the  visual  picture 
which  we  receive  at  one  time  were  as  complete  and  vivid  as  that 
portion  of  it  which  is  formed  on  the  central  spot  of  the  retina. 
For  our  W6V//«/ receptivity  of  this  picture  depends  upon  tho.  attention 
we  give   it ;  so  that  the  more  completely  our  attention  is  con- 

*  Any  one  may  make  this  experiment  for  himself,  by  looking  at  his  own 
eyes  in  a  looking-glass,  and  moving  his  head  either  horizontally  or  vertically. 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  427 

centrated  upon  the  thing  at  which  we  specially  wish  to  look,  the 
more  distinctly  we  see  it.  The  Microscopist  well  knows  the  great 
advantage  of  limiting  his  field  of  view  when  he  is  examining 
objects  of  the  greatest  difficulty.  And  every  one  who  has  been 
accustomed  to  visit  picture-galleries  is  aware  how  much  more  fully 
he  is  able  to  appreciate  a  picture,  when  he  looks  at  it  in  such  a 
manner  that  its  surroundings  are  kept  out  of  his  view. 

To  be  able  to  bring  our  fullest  measure  of  visual  power  to  bear 
upon  any  object  we  desire  to  examine,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
see  surrounding  objects  with  sufficient  distinctness  for  the  recog- 
nition of  their  local  relation  to  it,  is,  thus,  far  more  advantageous 
to  us,  than  would  be  the  extension  of  that  highest  degree  of  visual 
power  over  the  whole  range  at  once.  Here  again,  therefore,  the 
asserted  imperfection  of  the  eye  as  an  optical  instrument  proves 
to  be  the  very  contrary,  when  its  structure  and  action  are  regarded 
in  their  relations  to  the  use  we  make  of  the  organ  ;  added  force 
being  thus  given  to  the  final  conclusion  drawn  by  Professor  Helm- 
holtz,  that  "  the  adaptation  of  the  eye  to  its  function  is  most  com- 
"  plete,  and  is  seen  in  the  very  limits  which  are  set  in  its  defects  " 
(p.  228). — Those  who  quote  his  previous  statement  for  the  purpose 
of  depreciating  the  perfection  of  the  organ,  are  bound  in  honesty 
to  cite  this  also. 

In  the  human  eye,  then,  as  in  the  Walter  printing-machine,  we 
find  a  combination  of  a  number  of  separate  contrivances,  each 
individually  of  the  most  elaborate  kind,  yet  having  most  complete 
consentaneousness  of  action,  all  tending  towards  one  common  end, 
which  is  attained  with  a  perfection  not  theoretically  surpassable 
by  our  highest  science.  And  the  cumulative  probability  that  the 
eye,  like  the  machine,  is  the  product  of  "  intelligent  design,"  though 
not  logically  demonstrative,  has  a  cogency  not  inferior  to  the 
"  moral  certainties  "  on  which  we  are  accustomed  to  rely  in  the 
ordinary  conduct  of  our  lives. — This  argument  seems  to  me  not  to 
be  in  the  least  invalidated,  but  rather  to  be  strengthened,  by  the 
fact  that  in  the  ascending  series  of  animals  we  meet  with  eyes 
which,  compared  with  ours,  are  very  imperfect.  Beginning  at  the 
bottom,  we  find  a  little  coloured  spot,  generally  on  some  part  of 
the  surface  of  the  animal,  with  a  nerve-fibre  proceeding  from  the 
central  ganglion  to  that  spot ;  and  we  judge  this  to  be  a  rudimental 
19 


428  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

organ  of  vision,  by  what  we  encounter  as  we  proceed  upwards. 
The  next  stage  consists  in  the  addition  of  something  like  a  crystal- 
line lens — a  little,  bright,  pellucid  particle  on  the  end  of  the  nerve- 
fibre,  that  seems  by  the  concentration  of  luminous  rays  to  intensify 
the  sensation  of  light  We  have  strong  reason  to  believe  that 
animals  very  low  in  the  scale  are  guided  by  this  sensation  ;  not  in 
the  manner  of  plants,  whose  growth  towards  light  is  accounted  for 
by  its  physiological  action  on  the  formation  of  their  tissues  ;  but 
in  f7iovements  directed  by  a  conscious  perception  of  light,  resembling 
that  of  a  nearly  blind  person  who  can  just  distinguish  light  from 
darkness.  We  find  this  direction  towards  light,  and  the  avoidance 
of  intervening  obstacles,  more  and  more  obviously  manifested  in 
the  movements  of  animals,  as  we  pass  upwards  to  higher  forms  of 
the  visual  organ.  In  front  of  the  crystalline  lens,  we  meet  with  a 
transparent  film  representing  a  cornea,  separated  from  it  by  an 
anterior  chamber  ;  and  behind  it  we  come  to  distinguish  a  vitreous 
humour,  covering  an  expansion  of  the  nerve-fibre  which  is  backed 
by  a  pigment  layer.  When  we  have  arrived  at  this  stage,  seen  in 
the  "  simple  eyes  "  of  insects,  it  is  most  beautiful  to  trace  how  the 
further  ascent  takes  place  along  two  distinct  lines;  one  culminating 
in  the  "  compound  eye  "  of  the  insect,  and  the  other  in  the  single 
eye  of  the  vertebrate  animal,  of  which  that  of  the  predaceous  birds 
is,  perhaps,  the  highest  type. 

The  "  compound  eye  "  of  the  insect,  as  you  all  know,  is,  in 
its  typical  form,  an  almost  hemispherical  mass  projecting  from 
the  side  of  the  head,  which  is  made  up  of  a  number  of  separate 
"  eyelets "  of  nearly  cylindrical  form,  whose  several  axes  are 
directed  radially  towards  the  spheroidal  surface.  Each  "  eyelet  " 
consists  of  a  number  of  different  components  which  appear  to 
correspond  with  those  of  our  single  eye ;  probably  giving  an 
achromatic  character  to  the  minute  picture  formed  by  its  refrac- 
tive action.  But  each  can  receive  only  those  rays  of  light, 
whose  direction  corresponds  with  that  of  its  own  axis ;  and  as 
the  eye  of  the  insect  is  immovable,  no  eyelet  can  be  made  to  turn 
towards  any  particular  object.  By  the  multiplication  of  these 
eyelets,  however,  and  the  radial  direction  in  which  they  are  fixed, 
the  aggregate  "compound  eye"  will  have  a  range  fully  equal, 
and  probably  superior,  to  that  of  any  single  eye  constructed  on 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  429 

the  vertebrate  plan.  In  some  Butterflies  and  Dragon  flies,  each 
"  compound  eye  "  is  made  up  of  many  thousands  of  these  "  eye- 
lets," the  individual  "  corneules  "  of  which  give  the  "  facetted  " 
appearance  presented  by  the  exterior  of  the  aggregate  mass  ;  whilst 
the  inner  extremities  of  the  cylinders  abut  upon  a  bulbous  expan- 
sion of  the  optic  nerve,  from  which  a  filament  proceeds  to  each 
of  them.  Now  we  seem  fully  justified  by  observation  of  the 
movements  of  Insects,  in  concluding  that  these  are  guided  by 
visual  perceptions  of  external  objects  not  less  distinct  than  our 
own.  And  it  seems  probable,  therefore,  that  the  action  of  the 
compound  eye  is  to  impress  the  sensorium  of  the  Insect  with  a 
single  picture,  corresponding  to  that  which  is  formed  upon  our 
own  retina,  though  received  through  a  very  differently  constructed 
instrument.  Modern  investigations,  moreover,  have  shown  that 
the  difference  is  rather  apparent  than  real.  For  it  is  now  known 
that  the  retinal  layer  of  the  human  eye  is  not  a  mere  spreading- 
out  of  the  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve ;  but  that  in  front  of  these 
terminal  fibres  is  a  layer  of  "  rods  "  and  "  cones  "  on  which  the 
retinal  picture  is  formed.  Thus,  the  visual  picture  which  our 
mind  receives  from  either  retina,  is  made  up  (so  to  speak)  of  the 
aggregate  of  the  visual  impressions  made  separately  and  individ- 
ually upon  each  of  its  "  rods"  and  "cones,"  and — through  these — 
upon  the  individual  fibres  of  the  optic  nerve  on  which  they  severally 
impinge.  And  thus  what  may  be  called  the  "  mechanism "  of 
our  own  vision,  is  really  analogous  to  that  of  the  vision  of  the 
Insect.  In  fact,  it  would  now  seem  probable  that  the  "  rods " 
and  "  cones "  of  our  own  retina  are  really  homologous  with 
similar  structures  contained  in  the  cylindrical  "eyelets"  of  the 
Insect;  so  that  the  difference  between  its  "compound  eye"  and 
our  own  "single  eye"  lies  only  in  the  arrangement  of  the  parts 
of  the  recipient  nerve-structure.  Whilst  we  have  a  single  refrac- 
tive apparatus  for  the  whole  retinal  area,  by  which  a  continuous 
picture  is  thrown  upon  its  entire  expanse,  the  Insect  has  a  sepa- 
rate refractive  apparatus  for  each  of  its  retinal  elements  ;  but  as 
the  retinal  elements  themselves  are  essentially  the  same  in  both 
cases,  we  may  fairly  presume  that  the  resulting  visual  sensation, 
which  the  Insect  receives  by  the  combination  of  their  separate 
actions,  corresponds  closely  with  our  own.     That  in  the  Insect 


430  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

the  same  effect  is  produced  by  multiplication  of  pa7-ts,  as  is  pro- 
duced in  ourselves  by  their  concentration  in  a  single  apparatus,  is 
altogether  conformable  to  their  general  type  of  organization. 
And  it  seems  to  me  greatly  to  strengthen  the  argument  of  "  inten- 
tion," that  a  similar  perfection  of  adaptiveness  should  be  attained 
by  the  working-up  of  the  same  elementary  materials  on  two 
different  methods  of  construction,  in  accordance  with  the  general 
plan  of  Articulates  and  Vertebrates  respectively.  With  regard  to 
those  more  simple  forms  of  visual  apparatus  which  we  regard  as 
inferior  or  rudimentary,  it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that  they  prove 
no  less  suitable  than  our  own  to  the  requirements  of  the  animals 
which  possess  them,  and  are  therefore  equally  perfect  in  their  kind. 
All  the  wants  of  the  Leech,  for  example,  are  provided  for  by  its 
very  simply-constructed  eyes  ;  and  it  would  have  no  use  whatever 
for  the  elaborately-constructed  eyes  of  the  actively-flying  Insect, — 
the  evolution  of  the  visual  organs  in  the  animal  series  showing  a 
close  relation  to  that  of  the  locomotive  apparatus. 

Further  evidence  of  "  intelligent  design  "  is  supplied  by  the 
history  of  the  development  of  any  one  of  the  highest  forms  of  the 
eye,  such  as  that  of  the  Chick  in  ovo.  For  it  has  been  ascertained 
by  the  careful  study  of  this  process,  that  the  complete  organ  is 
the  joint  product  of  two  distinct  developmental  actions,  taking 
place  in  opposite  directions, — a  growing-inwards  from  the  skin — 
and  a  growing-outwards  from  the  brain  :  the  former  supplying  the 
optical  instrument  for  the  formation  of  the  visual  picture,  and 
the  latter  furnishing  the  nervous  apparatus  on  which  this  is 
received,  and  by  which  its  impression  is  conveyed  to  the  sen- 
sorium.  A  hollow,  pear-shaped  projection  is  sent  out  from  the 
division  of  the  brain  called  the  mesencephalon;  the  narrowed 
neck  or  stalk  of  which  afterwards  becomes  the  optic  nerve,  whilst 
its  expanded  portion,  pressed  back  into  a  concavity,  becomes  the 
retina.  At  the  same  time,  an  inward  growth  takes  place  from  the 
skin,  at  first  strongly  resembling  that  which  gives  origin  to  a  hair- 
follicle  ;  a  sinking-in  of  the  surface  of  the  dermis  or  true  skin, 
being  accompanied  by  an  increased  development  of  its  epidermic 
cells.  This  depression  deepens  into  a  round  pit,  the  lower  part 
of  which  expands  whilst  its  orifice  contracts,  so  as  to  form  a 
closed  globular  cavity,  which  is  at  last  completely  shut  off  from 


DESIGN  IN  THE   ORGANIC   WORLD.  431 

the  exterior.  This  cavity  is  lined  by  epidermic  cells,  out  of  which 
the  crystalline  lens  is  ultimately  formed  ;  the  derm  on  which  they 
rest  becomes  its  capsule  ;  and  the  loose  tissue  which  underlies  the 
derm  becomes  the  vitreous  humour.  The  back  of  the  globe  thus 
formed,  meeting  the  pear-shaped  projection  of  the  brain,  pushes 
it,  as  it  were,  inwards ;  and  thus  derives  from  it  the  retinal  invest- 
ment which  is  necessary  to  bring  the  optical  apparatus  into  rela- 
tion with  the  nervous  centres.  Neither  of  these  developmental 
processes  would  be  of  any  use  without  the  other.  It  is  only  by 
the  conjunction  of  the  two,  that  this  most  perfect  and  elaborate 
instrument  is  brought  into  existence. 

I  have  now  put  before  you  the  original  Argument  from  Design, 
as  set  forth  by  Paley,  expanded  by  the  more  advanced  knowledge 
of  the  present  time.  That  this  argument,  based  on  the  combina- 
tion of  adaptations  presented  in  the  structure  of  each  organic  type 
— considered  as  a  "  special  creation  " — to  the  external  conditions 
of  its  existence,  needs  now  to  be  reconstructed  under  the  new 
light  of  the  Evolution-doctrine,  must  be  freely  admitted  by  those 
who  (like  myself)  maintain  it  to  be  still  tenable.  And  I  have 
now  to  inquire  how  it  is  affected,  first  by  the  acceptance  of  the 
doctrine  of  Evolution  taken  per  se;  and  secondly  by  the  explana- 
tion supposed  to  be  given  of  that  Evolution  by  attributing  it  to 
"  Natural  Selection." 

I  can  best  bring  you  to  my  own  mode  of  viewing  this  question, 
by  first  leading  you  to  consider  how  it  has  been  affected  by  the 
substitution  of  our  present  knowledge  of  the  evolution  of  any  one 
of  the  higher  types  from  its  protoplasmic  germ-particle,  for  the  old 
notion  that  this  germ-particle  is  a  miniature  representation  of  the 
mature  embryo,  into  which  it  has  only  to  expand  by  growth. 
The  primordial  "jelly-speck"  in  the  Fowl's  egg  during  the  pro- 
gress of  its  development  into  the  fully-formed  chick,  passes 
through  a  succession  of  phases,  of  which  the  first  represents  that 
lowest  or  most  homogeneous  type  of  organization  which  is 
common  to  the  simplest  Plants  and  the  simplest  Animals, — the 
second,  one  which  is  distinctively  Animal, — the  third,  one  which  is 
distinctively  Vertebrate, — the  fourth,  one  which  is  distinctively 
Oviparous, — and  the  fifth,  one  which  is  distinctively  Ornithic, — 


432  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

while  the  peculiarities  of  the  special  Bird  family  to  which  it 
belongs  are  the  last  to  make  their  appearance.  Thus,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  great  Embryologist,  Von  Baer,  to  whom  we  owe  this 
splendid  generalization,  its  evolution  consists  in  a  gradual  progress 
from  the  general  to  the  special^  or,  as  Herbert  Spencer  would  say, 
from  the  homogeneous  to  the  heterogeneous. 

Now  if,  in  examining  the  structure  of  a  typical  Bird,  we  find 
evidences  of  "  design  "  in  the  wonderful  adaptation  of  its  clothing 
of  feathers  alike  to  keep  in  the  warmth  of  the  body,  and  to  sustain 
it  in  its  flight  through  the  air, — in  that  organization  of  its  heart 
and  lungs  which  enables  them  to  keep  up  the  energetic  circulation 
and  respiration  required  for  the  maintenance  of  a  high  standard 
of  muscular  activity, — in  those  arrangements  of  the  skeleton  and 
muscular  apparatus  which  give  support  and  motion  to  the  ex- 
panded wings, — in  the  adaptation  of  the  eye  to  that  acute  and 
far-ranging  vision  which  is  needed  for  the  guidance  of  its  actions, 
— and  in  many  other  provisions  I  might  enumerate, — I  affirm, 
without  any  doubt  of  your  assent,  that  this  evidence  is  not  in  the 
least  degree  invalidated  by  the  discovery  that  the  germ-particle  is 
not  a  miniature  bird,  but  a  protoplasmic  "jelly-speck."  In  its 
capacity  for  "  evolution  "  into  the  complete  type,  the  germ-particle 
is  just  as  much  "  potentially  "  the  Bn-d,  as  if  it  could  become  one 
by  merely  swelling  out. 

So,  if  we  go  back  in  thought  to  the  origin  of  the  race,  as  we 
can  by  actual  observation  to  that  of  the  individual,  the  old  con- 
ception of  "  design  "  which  was  based  on  the  idea  of  an  original 
Bird-creation  does  not  lose  any  of  its  applicability,  if  we  find 
reason  to  believe  that  the  orighial  progenitor  was  a  protoplasmic 
"jelly-speck,"  certain  of  whose  descendants  have  passed  through 
a  series  of  forms  progressively  improving  in  structure  and  capacity, 
and  culminating  in  the  perfected  Bird.  We  merely  substitute  for 
the  idea  of  continuous  uniform  descent,  that  of  the  "  progressive 
development"  of  the  race,  as  representing  the  mode  in  which  our 
present  Bird  has  come  to  be ;  deeming  the  latter  the  more  prob- 
able, because  we  find  it  correspond  with  the  embryonic  history 
of  every  Bird  now  existing.  The  original  progenitor  was  just  as 
"  potentially  "  the  Race,  whether  called  into  existence  as  a  proto- 
plasmic "jelly-speck,"  or  as  a  fully  developed  Bird.     And  the 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD,  433 

evidences  of  "design,"  which  on  the  doctrine  of  "special  crea- 
tions "  we  find  in  the  construction  of  the  original  Bird,  and  in  the 
provision  for  the  continuous  propagation  of  its  own  type,  we  equally 
find  in  the  production  of  the  original  "jelly-speck,"  and  in  the 
evolutionary  process  by  which  the  very  lowest  type  of  organization 
has  been  progressively  elevated  to  one  of  the  highest.  The  mar- 
vellous succession  of  changes  by  which  a  chick  is  evolved  from 
the  germ-spot  of  the  fowl's  egg  in  the  short  period  of  two-and- 
twenty  days,  assuredly  does  not  become  less  worthy  of  our  admira- 
tion, if  looked  at  as  the  abbreviated  repetition  of  one  which  has 
extended  continuously  over  millions  of  years. 

Let  us  now  consider  this  question,  not  in  regard  to  any  par- 
ticular species  of  Bird,  but  in  regard  to  the  class  as  a  whole, — 
consisting,  as  it  does  at  the  present  time,  of  many  thousands  of 
reputed  "  species,"  each  of  them  possessing  some  particular  adap- 
tation to  its  own  conditions  of  existence,  and  hence  regarded 
(according  to  our  former  ideas)  as  a  separate  product  of  Creative 
Design. 

Every  Zoologist  is  aware  that  the  structure  of  all  Birds  conforms 
so  closely  to  a  common  type,  as  to  make  it  difficult  to  divide  the 
class  into  subordinate  groups  characterized  by  well-m.irked  dis- 
tinctions. For  these  distinctions  almost  entirely  rest  on  the 
comparative  development,  or  peculiar  shaping,  of  organs  which 
all  alike  possess.  I  remember  that  on  remarking  to  my  friend, 
Professor  Milne  Edwards  (the  successor  of  Cuvier  as  the  official 
head  of  French  naturalists),  soon  after  the  publication  of  the 
"  Origin  of  Species,"  that  I  could  very  well  believe  that  all  Birds 
had  descended  from  a  common  ancestry,  he  replied,  "  I  regard 
"  Birds  zoologically  as  constituting  but  a  single  family ; " — meaning 
that  their  diversities  of  structure  are  not  greater  than  those  which 
we  find  among  the  members  of  many  single  families  of  Mammals 
or  Reptiles.  Now,  if  we  find  adequate  grounds  for  the  belief  that 
all  the  Birds  which  now  exist,  or  ever  have  existed,  are  the  descend- 
ants of  a  common  progenitor,  and  that  the  special  peculiarities  of 
each  type  have  arisen  in  the  course  of  their  "descent  with  modi- 
fication," the  adaptiveness  of  each  resultant  organism  is  not  less 
an  evidence  of  design,  because  the  aggregate  result  has  been 
wrought  out  through  a  continuous  passage  from  the  general  type 


434  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

to  the  special,  instead  of  having  been  elaborated  in  all  its  com- 
pleteness in  the  first  instance.  If  the  original  Bird  was  so 
constructed  as  to  be  capable  not  only  of  engendering  its  own  type, 
but  of  giving  origin  by  genetic  succession  to  all  the  diversified 
forms  under  which  the  ornithic  type  has  presented  itself,  we  must 
regard  that  progenitor  as  "  potentially  "  the  entire  class,  and  as 
endowed  with  a  capacity  for  producing  the  whole  aggregate  of 
"adaptations"  presented  by  its  individual  members.  At  each 
stage  in  the  progress  of  differentiation,  we  have  thus  precisely  the 
same  evidence  of  "  design,"  as  if  the  entire  set  of  specific  types 
had  been  turned  out  complete  (as  it  were)  by  their  Maker's  hand 
in  the  first  instance ;  and  the  substitution  of  the  idea  of  progressive 
divarication  from  a  common  Bird-type,  for  that  of  the  original 
multiplicity  and  continuous  transmission  of  separate  types,  thus 
involves  no  other  modification  in  the  mode  of  presenting  the 
argument,  than  the  replacement  of  paroxysmal  exertion  by 
continuous  orderly  operation, — a  change  which  brings  it  into 
conformity  with  the  accredited  evolutionary  history  of  the  physical 
universe. 

It  is  freely  admitted  by  Mr.  Darwin  that  it  is  by  analogy  only 
that  we  are  led  to  regard  the  progenitors  of  the  great  divisions  of 
the  Animal  and  Vegetable  kingdoms  as  having  themselves  had  a 
common  origin ;  but  if  we  go  along  with  him  as  far  as  we  have 
now  done,  we  can  scarcely  stop  short  of  that  conclusion.  For  as 
we  know  that  the  primitive  germ-particles  from  which  Birds  or 
Mammals  now  spring  are  not  distinguishable  by  any  recognizable 
differences  from  those  in  which  Rhizopods  or  Zoophytes  originate, 
— the  special  "  potentiality  "  of  each  only  manifesting  itself  in  the 
progress  of  its  development, — so  it  seems  more  in  accordance  with 
Nature's  order,  that  the  distinctions  between  the  fundamental 
types  of  animal  organization  should  have  arisen,  like  those  of 
their  subordinate  divisions,  by  "descent  with  modification,"  than 
by  "  special  creations  "  of  their  several  progenitors.  Accepting 
provisionally,  then,  the  doctrine  of  evolution  in  this  widest  sense, 
as  implying  the  common  origin  of  the  whole  organized  creation — 
past  and  present — from  a  single  stock,  we  shall  find  that  no  further 
modification  will  be  required  in  the  form  in  which  I  have  put  the 
Argument  from  Design,  than  such  as  gives  it  yet  further  range  and 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC   WORLD.  435 

greater  comprehensiveness.  For  we  must  then  regard  our  one 
ancestral  germ-particle  as  endowed  with  a  "  potentiality  "  of  pro- 
gressive development,  that  has  been  equal  to  the  peopling  of  our 
globe  with  all  that  vast  variety  of  living  creatures,  by  some  or 
other  of  which  it  has  been  inhabited  through  all  save  the  remotest 
periods  of  its  ever-changing  history  to  the  present  time.  That 
this  progressive  development  has  taken  place  according  to  an 
orderly  succession,  the  study  of  which  will  ultimately  enable  us  to 
frame  "laws"  that  shall  express  the  conditions  of  the  "perturba- 
tions "  as  well  of  the  '*  uniformities "  of  genetic  descent,  is  the 
belief  of  every  philosophic  Biologist.  But  when  biological  science 
shall  have  reached  this  elevated  point,  it  will  have  revealed  to  us 
only  the  Order  of  the  evolutionary  process,  leaving  us  still  to  seek 
for  its  Cause.  But  how  much  grander  a  conception  of  that  order 
do  we  obtain,  when  we  are  thus  led  to  regard  it  as  embodied 
in  one  original  design  continuously  working  itself  out  through 
the  ages,  in  constant  harmony  with  the  changes  contemporane- 
ously taking  place  in  the  condition  of  the  terrestrial  surface,  than 
when  we  suppose  it  to  have  needed  successive  interpositions  for 
re-adaptation  to  those  changes  as  they  successively  occurred  ! 

But,  it  is  affirmed,  there  is  nothing  in  this  adaptation  that 
cannot  be  accounted  for  by  "  Natural  Selection."  As  changes  took 
place  in  their  "  environment,"  variations  occurred  in  the  living 
inhabitants  ;  some  of  these  were  favourable  to  their  new  conditions, 
some  were  the  reverse ;  the  fittest  survived,  the  unfit  became 
extinct  J  and  thus  those  "adaptations"  came  about  in  the  natural 
course  of  things,  for  which  theologians  have  needlessly  invoked 
the  "  design  "  of  a  Dens  ex  machina.  In  one  of  those  most  able 
expositions  of  the  doctrine  of  the  "  Origin  of  Species  by  Natural 
Selection,"  by  which  Professor  Huxley  very  early  impressed  the 
educated  public  with  the  scientific  value  of  the  new  views  which 
Mr.  Darwin  had  opened  out,  he  remarked  that  nothing  had  more 
strongly  impressed  him  than  the  fact  that  they  had  completely 
disposed  of  the  old  teleological  argument;  the  adaptations  in 
organized  structures  which  had  been  regarded  as  evidences  of 
"design"  being  sufiiciently  accounted  for  as  results  of  the  "  sur- 
"  vival  of  the  fittest."     And  this  view  of  the  case  has  been  so 


436  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

zealously  adopted  by  some  of  the  younger  advocates  of  the 
doctrine,  that  they  have  gone  the  length  of  representing  the  plants 
and  animals  which  exhibit  them,  as  having  made  themselves  for  the 
purposes  which  their  organization  is  found  to  answer, — as  if  they 
had  the  intelligent  design  which  is  denied  to  an  universal  Creator. 
When  challenged  to  justify  that  language,  they  represent  it  as  merely 
"  figurative ; "  their  intention  being  only  to  show  that,  as  Natural 
Selection  gives  a  sufficient  account  of  the  adaptiveness,  there  is  no 
need  to  seek  for  any  other  explanation  of  it. 

But  to  me  it  seems  that  Professor  Huxley  and  his  followers 
in  this  line  of  argument  have  entirely  overlooked  the  considera- 
tion, that  before  Natural  Selection  among  varietal  forms  could 
come  into  operation,  there  must  have  been  varieties  to  select 
from, — that  for  the  "fittest"  to  have  survived,  they  must  have 
come  to  possess  the  structure  that  made  them  the  fittest.  It  was 
very  early  pointed  out  that  Natural  Selection  only  expresses  a 
general  fact,  and  can  in  no  sense  be  accounted  a  vera  causa  ;  and 
this,  in  his  later  years,  Mr.  Darwin  showed  himself  quite  willing 
to  admit.  In  what  I  believe  to  be  his  last  public  utterance  on 
the  subject,  he  spoke  of  the  causes  of  variation  as  at  present  the 
greatest  problem  of  biological  science ;  and  the  greater  our  success 
in  the  investigation  of  it,  the  more  surely — I  feel  convinced — 
shall  we  recognize  the  evidences  of  an  originating  Design.  While 
the  argument  is  carried  back — exactly  as  by  the  determination  of 
the  "  laws  "  of  the  celestial  motions — a  stage  nearer  to  the  primal 
source,  its  basis  is  extended,  and  its  upward  reach  elevated.  In 
the  admirable  language  of  Dr.  Martineau,  "  The  law  of  '  natural 
"  selection,'  instead  of  dispensing  with  anterior  causation,  and 
"  enabling  the  animal  races  to  be  their  own  Providence  and  do  all 
"  their  own  work,  distinctly  testifies  to  the  constitution  of  a  world 
"  pre-arranged  for  progress,  externally  spread  with  large  choice  of 
"  conditions,  and  with  internal  provisions  for  seizing  and  realizing 
"  the  best." 

The  life  of  every  organized  structure,  from  the  lowest  to  the 
highest,  consists  in  a  series  of  physical  interactions  between  itself 
and  its  environment;  these  interactions  being  maintained  by 
certain  physical  forces,  and  requiring  certain  material  supplies. 
The  simplest  Algal  protophytes,  under  the  influence  of  light  and  a 


DESIGN  IN    THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  437 

moderate  degree  of  heat,  can  manufacture  their  own  food  out  of 
the  inorganic  components  of  air  and  water  \  and  can  thus  flourish 
at  all  ordinary  temperatures,  wherever  they  can  get  an  adequate 
supply  of  these  elements.  Most  of  the  higher  Plants,  on  the  other 
hand,  whilst  still  capable  of  generating  out  of  air  and  water  the 
organic  materials  which  they  require  for  their  own  sustenance, 
need  also  to  be  supplied  with  certain  special  mineral  substances ; 
and  will  only  flourish  within  certain  limits  of  temperature.  More- 
over, as  Mr.  Darwin  has  shown  us,  many  of  them  require  the 
agency  of  Insects  for  the  fertilization  of  their  ovules  ;  and  cannot 
reproduce  themselves  by  seeds  where  that  agency  is  not  supplied. 
But  the  aggregate  of  these  physical  conditions  constitutes  only  a 
part  of  the  cause  of  the  Plant's  growth  :  there  must  be  an  aptitude 
on  the  part  of  the  organism  itself  to  turn  them  to  account ;  and  of 
the  source  of  that  aptitude,  we  at  present  know  nothing  whatever. 
Some  Plants  can  adapt  themselves  in  a  much  greater  degree  than 
others,  to  differences  in  external  conditions;  that  adaptation 
involving  some  modification  of  their  own  structure.  "  What," 
said  Professor  Lindley,  fifty  years  ago,  "  is  a  '  common  '  plant,  but 
"  one  which  can  grow  and  propagate  itself  in  almost  any  kind  of 
"  soil,  and  under  almost  every  range  of  temperature ;  and  what  is 
"  a  'rare'  plant,  but  one  which  cannot  flourish  and  produce  seed, 
"  except  under  certain  special  conditions  ? "  Every  botanist 
knows  that  among  our  own  wild  plants,  Rosa,  Riibus,  and  Salix 
are  alike  the  most  "variable,"  and  the  most  "common"  types; 
"  common,"  because  they  have  the  capacity  for  adapting  them- 
selves to  different  conditions  of  growth ;  "  variable,"  because  of 
the  influence  of  those  varying  conditions  upon  their  organization. 
Out  of  the  forms  of  Rose,  Bramble,  and  Willow,  ranked  as 
"  varietal "  by  Mr.  Bentham,  our  ablest  student  of  them,  previous 
systematists  had  created  more  than  three  hundred  "species." 

Take,  again,  the  influence  of  cultivation.  There  is  no  more 
remarkable  example  of  the  alteration  produced  by  more  abundant 
supply  of  food  and  more  regulated  temperature,  than  that  ex- 
hibited in  the  development  of  the  wild  Brassica  okracea,  a  rambling 
sea-shore  plant,  into  the  various  kinds  of  cabbage,  broccoli,  and 
cauliflower.  Why  will  not  culture  produce  the  like  effect  upon 
other  plants  ?     It  is  (juile  illogical  to  say  that  this  transformation 


433  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

has  been  the  effect  of  "  physical  causes,"  when  the  most  essential 
factor  in  that  entire  "aggregate  of  antecedents,"  which  (according 
to  J.  S.  Mill)  constitutes  the  "  cause,"  is  the  "unknown  quantity" 
which  we  designate  as  the  "  constitution  "  of  the  organism  itself 
As  I  have  already  pointed  out,  we  do  not  get  any  nearer  to  the 
explanation  of  this  constitution  by  tracing  it  backwards  ancestrally; 
for  supposing  Rosa,  Rubiis,  Salix,  and  Brasska  to  have  derived 
their  respective  peculiarities  by  "  natural  selection  "  from  among 
previous  varieties,  the  question  recurs, — Whence  those  varietal 
modifications?  No  physical  agencies  can  be  assigned,  at  any 
stage  whatever  of  the  descent,  as  an  adequate  account  of  them  ; 
since,  for  those  agencies  to  take  effect,  there  must  have  been  a 
concurrent  capacity  for  variation,  either  in  the  organism  itself,  or  in 
its  germ,  in  virtue  of  which  its  varietal  forms  were  engendered.  The 
necessity  for  this  factor  is  evinced  by  the  negative  results  of  its 
deficiency,  shown  in  the  "  rareness  "  of  many  wild  plants,  and  the 
unconquerable  resistance  made  by  others  to  all  improvement  by 
cultivation. 

Precisely  the  same  thing  obtains  in  the  Animal  kingdom.  The 
lowest  Protozoa,  of  which  Atnxba  is  the  type,  find  in  every  pond 
the  organic  materials  which  they  require  for  their  sustenance  ;  and 
live  and  multiply  under  all  ordinary  ranges  of  temperature.  But 
most  Animals  of  high  organization  require  particular  kinds  of 
food  :  some  being  purely  carnivorous,  others  purely  herbivorous ; 
whilst  others,  like  Man,  are  omnivorous,  and  are  thereby  enabled 
to  sustain  themselves  on  a  greater  variety  of  alimentary  sub- 
stances. So,  again,  all  the  higher  types  of  Animals  need  an 
elevated  temperature  for  the  maintenance  of  their  activity ;  but 
while  the  "  cold-blooded,"  as  Insects  and  Reptiles,  are  entirely 
dependent  upon  the  temperature  of  the  medium  they  inhabit,  and 
are  therefore  reduced  to  a  state  of  torpidity  by  its  depression, 
"  warm-blooded  "  Birds  and  Mammals  carry  their  heating-furnaces 
about  with  them,  and  are  thus  in  a  great  degree  independent  of 
depressions  in  external  temperature.  Yet  even  with  this  advan- 
tage, we  find  the  whole  Quadrumanous  order  and  the  larger 
Carnivora,  as  well  as  the  (existing)  Elephant,  Rhinoceros,  and 
Hippopotamus,  restricted  to  tropical  or  sub-tropical  climates  ;  none 
of  them  being  able  to  resist  the  winter  cold  of  the  temperate  zone. 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  439 

In  striking  contrast  with  their  Hmitation  of  range  is  that  of  our 
"  domesticated  "  animals,  especially  Dogs  and  Cats,  Sheep  and 
Oxen,  Asses  and  Horses ;  all  of  which  possess  more  or  less  adap- 
tability to  a  wide  range  of  climatic  and  other  conditions,  while 
the  original  (or  supposed  original)  type  of  each  becomes  the 
subject  of  numerous  varietal  modifications.  Some  of  these  are 
distinctly  adaptive,  rendering  the  animals  that  exhibit  them  more 
fit  to  sustain  themselves  in  the  new  conditions  in  which  Man's 
agency  (directly  or  indirectly  exerted)  has  placed  them  ;  whilst 
others  are  as  distinctly  ;w«-adaptive,  rendering  the  animals  less  fit 
to  maintain  their  existence  if  left  to  take  care  of  themselves, 
although  perpetuated  by  man's  "  artificial  selection "  as  either 
useful  or  pleasing  to  himself. 

In  these  varying  capabilities  of  particular  races,  then,  we  must 
recognize — no  less  than  in  the  ordinary  characters  proper  to  each 
race — the  constitutional  factor  which  extends  the  range  of  some, 
and  limits  that  of  others,  so  that  the  physical  agencies  to  which  the 
former  show  themselves  amenable,  have  no  similar  effect  upon  the 
latter.  If  we  say  that  the  unknown  cause  of  the  variability  of 
the  one,  or  of  the  invariability  of  the  other,  lies  in  the  "  properties  " 
of  the  germ  of  each, — whether  that  of  its  immediate  progenitor, 
or  of  the  primordial  ancestor  of  both, — we  really  get  no  nearer 
to  an  explanation  of  it,  than  we  do  by  calling  the  former  x  and 
the  latter  J/.  There  is  no  family  in  the  whole  Mammalian  series, 
of  which  the  members  are  more  closely  similar  in  the  essential 
parts  of  their  conformation,  than  the  Cat  tribe  ;  the  Lion,  Tiger, 
Panther,  Leopard,  Puma,  and  Jaguar,  differing  in  little  else  than 
stature  and  hairy  covering,  and  the  domestic  Cat  being  but  a 
reduced  copy  of  the  general  type.  What  it  was  in  its  original 
wild  state,  is  not  certainly  known ;  many  races  of  "  wild  cats " 
being  pretty  certainly  descendants  of  the  domesticated  stock.  In 
virtue,  however,  of  its  adaptabilility  to  a  lower  range  of  temperature 
Felts  catus  has  established  itself  where  neither  Felis  leo  nor  any 
other  of  the  larger  (existing)  cats  can  keep  itself  alive  ;  but  whence 
did  it  get  this  adaptability  ?  Suppose  it  to  be  replied,  that,  being 
a  smaller  species  than  the  rest,  it  was  very  early  brought  under  the 
influence  of  Man ;  and  that  as  the  people  who  domesticated  it 
extended  themselves  further  and  further  north  of  their  original 
20 


440  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

home,  successive  generations  came  to  adapt  themselves  to  greater 
and  yet  greater  degrees  of  winter  cold, — the  question  still  recurs, 
whence  this  ancestral  adaptability  ? 

The  influence  of  physical  conditions  in  modifying  the  con- 
stitution is  well  known  to  be  most  strongly  exerted  during  the 
earlier  period  of  life ;  for  as  long  as  the  organism  is  in  process  of 
development,  it  will  grow  to  its  environment,  as  it  will  not  do  at 
a  later  epoch,  when  it  will  either  resist  or  succumb.  We  are  told 
by  Sir  Charles  Lyell  that  the  Cornish  miners  who  went  out  some 
sixty  years  ago  to  work  the  Real  del  Monte  mines  in  Mexico,  took 
out  some  greyhounds  to  hunt  the  hares  which  abound  on  the 
elevated  plateaux  of  that  country  ;  but  that,  in  consequence  of 
the  rarefied  condition  of  the  air,  the  dogs  could  not  continue  the 
chase,  but  lay  down  panting  for  breath.  The  offspring  of  those 
dogs,  however,  brought  up  at  this  elevation,  were  able  to  run  down 
the  hares  as  well  as  if  both  had  been  on  a  lower  level.  The  con- 
stitution of  the  young  dogs  adapted  itself  to  the  environment  in 
which  they  grew  up  ;  but  whence  that  adaptability  ?  We  do  not 
find  it  in  any  but  living  organisjtis ;  no  physical  property  gives  the 
least  account  of  it. 

The  most  remarkable  example  with  which  I  am  acquainted,  of 
the  effect  of  physical  conditions  in  modifying  the  developmental 
process,  is  that  which  is  seen  in  the  economy  of  the  Hive-bee.  It 
is  well  known  that  whenever,  from  any  cause,  a  community  wants 
a  queen,  a  worker-grub  at  an  early  stage  is  selected  :  a  "  royal 
cell "  is  constructed  round  it,  several  ordinary  cells  being  de- 
molished for  the  purpose,  and  their  contained  grubs  killed ;  the 
selected  grub  is  fed  with  "  royal  jelly "  instead  of  with  "  bee- 
bread;"  and  (it  seems  probable)  a  higher  temperature  is  main- 
tained by  the  incessant  activity  of  the  bees  which  cluster  about 
the  royal  nursery.  In  due  time  a  perfect  "  queen  "  comes  forth, 
differing  from  the  "  worker  "  not  merely  in  the  completeness  of  its 
reproductive  apparatus,  but  in  the  conformation  of  its  jaws  and 
antennae,  the  absence  of  "  pollen-baskets  "  on  the  thighs,  and  yet 
more  remarkably  in  its  instincts.  Now  it  is  obviously  no  ex- 
planation of  this  extraordinary  transformation  to  say  that  every 
worker  grub  is  a  "  potential  "  queen  ;  because  the  attributing  this 
"  potentiality "  to  it  is  only  another  way  of  expressing  the  fact 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  441 

that  it  can  be  so  transformed.  The  existence  of  the  "potentiality," 
and  of  the  wonderful  instinct  that  leads  the  worker  bees  to  act 
upon  it,  are  not  less  evidences  of  "design,"  because  physical 
agencies  are  needed  to  call  them  into  exercise. 

A  familiar  instance  of  adaptiveness  between  the  conformation 
of  animals  and  their  environment,  is  the  possession  by  Birds  and 
Mammals  inhabiting  the  Polar  regions,  of  a  tegumentary  covering 
that  serves  to  keep  in  the  warmth  of  their  bodies,  the  former 
being  provided  with  an  underclothing  of  down,  the  latter  with  a 
thick  close  fur ;  whilst,  on  the  contrary,  many  of  the  larger 
quadrupeds  inhabiting  the  torrid  zone  show  a  marked  deficiency, 
or  even  entire  absence,  of  hairy  covering.  Now  this  is  the  more 
remarkable,  because  the  ordinary  effect  of  external  warmth  is  to 
increase,  and  of  external  cold  to  diminish,  the  determination  of 
blood  to  the  skin  ;  of  which  we  see  the  effects  alike  in  the  increase 
of  perspiration,  and  in  the  more  rapid  growth  of  the  hair  and  nails 
during  summer.  Yet  I  have  myself  seen  in  Southdown  sheep, 
which  had  been  transported  only  two  years  previously  to  the 
West  Indies,  the  thick  covering  of  wool  replaced  by  short  crisp 
hair,  scarcely  distinguishable  from  that  of  the  goats  which  had 
inhabited  the  island  for  several  generations  ;  and  the  hottest  parts 
of  the  South  American  Pampas  are  inhabited  by  breeds  of  cattle 
(the  descendants  of  those  introduced  by  the  Spaniards),  of  which 
some  are  nearly,  and  others  quite,  destitute  of  hair,  and  which 
cannot  live  in  the  more  temperate  air  of  the  slopes  of  the 
Andes.  It  seems  clear,  then,  that  this  adaptation  results  from 
some  direct  physical  action  of  temperature  on  the  constitution 
of  the  animals  ;  and  yet  (like  the  expansion  of  water  in  cooling 
from  392°  to  32°)  it  is  in  direct  opposition  to  a  very  general 
law. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  winter  whitening  of  the  fur  and 
plumage  of  Arctic  Mammals  and  Birds.  For  although  this  (like 
the  preceding)  has  been  adduced  as  an  example  of  "natural 
selection, " — the  white  varieties  surviving  because  they  escape 
being  seen  upon  ground  whitened  by  snow, — yet  there  must  have 
been  some  cause  for  the  production  of  the  white  varieties  ;  and 
it  has  been  the  experience  of  some  of  our  Arctic  voyagers, 
that   the    winter   whitening   could   be   retarded    by  keeping    the 


442  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

animals  in  a  warm  cabin,  but  took  place  in  a  few  hours  when 
they  were  put  out  into  air  whose  temperature  was  considerably 
below  zero. 

Supposing,  then,  that  we  could  trace  out  all  the  physical  con- 
ditions under  which  these  adaptations  come  to  be,  we  have  still  to 
account  for  the  adaptiveness  in  the  constitution  of  the  anitnals 
which  exhibit  them. 

We  find  a  singularly  parallel  case  in  that  beautiful  piece  of 
human  workmanship, — a  clock  or  chronometer  so  constructed,  as, 
by  the  accurate  "  compensation "  of  its  pendulum  or  balance- 
wheel,  to  keep  accurate  time  under  all  ordinary  variations  of 
climatic  temperature.  Surely  we  do  not  consider  it  a  sufficient 
account  of  its  self-adjustment,  to  attribute  it  to  the  physical  action 
of  heat  or  cold ;  for  this  would  disturb  the  performance  of  an 
ordinary  clock  or  watch.  We  seek  the  explanation  of  its  special 
"potentiality"  in  the  compensating  apparatus  ;  and  we  trace  back 
the  origin  of  this  apparatus  to  the  mind  of  its  contriver.  So,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  however  long  may  be  the  chain  of  "  causation,"  or 
the  series  of "  unconditional  sequences,"  that  may  be  traceable 
backwards  in  the  ancestral  history  of  any  organized  type,  we  come 
to  a  beginning  of  it,  as  to  the  first  term  of  an  arithmetical  or 
geometrical  progression ;  and  we  have  no  less  to  account  for  the 
common  beginning  of  the  whole  Organized  Creation,  with  its 
unlimited  possibilities  of  modification  and  adaptation,  than  if  we 
had  to  account  for  the  separate  production  of  each  type  of  Plant 
and  Animal. 

I  shall  introduce  one  more  curious  illustration  of  my  argument, 
from  a  department  of  inquiry  well  worthy  of  systematic  study, — 
the  influence  of  psychical  conditions  on  the  colour  of  animals. 
The  advocates  of  "  natural  selection  "  as  an  all-sufficient  explana- 
tion of  the  correspondence  between  the  gorgeous  hues  of  tropical 
Birds  and  Insects,  and  the  brilliant  foliage  and  blossoms  of  the 
trees  in  the  midst  of  which  they  live,  altogether  neglect  to  tell  us 
how  those  varieties  came  to  be  engendered,  the  conformity  of 
whose  colours  to  those  of  their  environment  made  them  the 
"fittest"  to  survive.  The  story  of  Jacob  and  Laban  shows  the 
antiquity  of  the  belief  that  some  influence  exerted  by  the  colour 
of  the  "environment"  on  the  visual  sense  of  the  parents,  affects 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  443 

the  colour  of  the  progeny ;    and   this  belief   seems   justified  by 
modern  observation.     Thus,  the  Dingo,  or  wild  dog  of  Australia 
(probably  the  descendant  of   some  domesticated  race  originally 
introduced  thither  by  man),  has  a  uniform  dull  brown  hue;   but 
when  the  parents  have  been  brought  by  domestication  into  a  more 
varied  environment,  the  pups  vary  in  colour, — as  has  been  often 
seen  in  the  Zoological  Gardens.      The  breeders  of  the   polled 
Angus — a  particular  race  of  black  cattle  in  Scotland — who  make 
a  great  point  of  keeping  up  the  perfect  uniformity  of  their  black- 
ness, getting  rid  of  every  individual  that  has  even  a  single  white 
foot — take  care  to  have  everything  black  about  their  farmsteads  ; 
all  the  buildings  are  black,  the  horses  are  black,  the  dogs   are 
black,    the   fowls   are   black.       No    breeder   will   have   anything 
coloured  or  white  about  his  place.     Though  no  account  can  be 
given  of  the  physiological  action  which  makes  these  precautions 
effective  (as  they  are  asserted  to  be)  in  securing  the  desired  result, 
yet  I  am  strongly  inclined  to  think  that  some  influence  of  this 
kind  is  concerned  in  producing  many  singular  correspondences 
between  the  surface  aspect  of  Fishes  and  Crustacea  inhabiting 
shallow  waters,  and  the  characters  of  the  bottoms  on  which  they 
live.      Every  angler  for  trout   is  familiar  with  variations  of  this 
kind  ;  and  I  have  been  assured  of  cases  in  which  these  fish,  when 
transferred  from  one  part  of  a  stream  to  another,  were  found  in 
no  long  time  to  have  undergone  a  change  in  surface-markings, 
which  gave  them  the  same  conformity  to  the  new  bottom  as  they 
previously  had  to  the  old.     I  once  found  in  a  pool  on  the  sea- 
shore some  small  Fishes  and  shrimp-like  Crustaceans,  the  hue  of 
whose   surface   so   exactly   resembled    that   of   the   yellow   sand 
speckled  with  black  that  formed  the  bottom  and  sides  of  the  pool, 
that  the  closest  watching  scarcely  enabled  me  to  distinguish  them  ; 
and  I  found,  on  microscopic  examination  of  their  respective  in- 
teguments, that  their  coloration  was  due   in   both  alike  to  the 
presence  of   large   yellow  pigment-cells,  with  small    black  ones 
interspersed.     Hence,  even   if  we  attribute   this  singularly  close 
adaptation  to  "natural  selection,"  we  have  just  as  much  to  account 
for  the  development  of  the  peculiar  pigmentation  in  the  variety — 
alike  of  the  Jish  and  of  the  Crustacean — that  exhibited  it,  as  if  we 
believed  these  animals    to  have  been  originally  created  with  it, 


444  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

And  if  we  prefer  to  believe,  as  I  am  myself  disposed  to  do,  that 
in  all  these  instances  the  colour  of  the  environment  is  reproduced 
by  some  sort  of  physiological  reflexion  in  the  integument  of  the 
animal  (the  psychical  impression,  as  in  numerous  other  cases,  re- 
acting in  a  physical  change),  we  have  still  to  account  for  the 
peculiarity  of  constitution  which  made  those  particular  races 
amenable  to  that  influence. 

I  trust  that  I  have  now  satisfied  you  of  the  validity  of  the 
position  I  took  up  in  the  first  instance,  that  "  natural  selection " 
does  not — as  has  been  affirmed — effectually  dispose  of  the  telea- 
logical  argument,  by  reducing  adaptiveness  to  an  accidental 
conformity  between  the  capacities  of  the  "fittest"  and  the  ex- 
ternal conditions  of  their  existence.  That  conformity  cannot 
exist,  unless  the  beings  possessed  of  it  have  previously  come  into 
existence.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  "accidental"  variation. 
A  departure  from  the  rule  that  "  like  produces  like,"  never  takes 
place  without  a  cause.  If  it  should  happen  that  a  variation  is — 
under  the  circumstances — injurious  rather  than  beneficial,  it  would 
not  be  right  to  call  it  "  aimless ; "  for  it  may  be  no  less  perfectly 
adapted  to  conditions  which  exist  elsewhere,  than  is  that  variation 
which  gives  to  the  race  that  possesses  it  an  advantage  in  the 
struggle  for  existence.  If  a  Highland  cow  were  to  produce  a 
hairless  calf  which  could  not  stand  the  winter  cold,  or  a  Pampas 
cow  were  to  bear  a  calf  with  a  thick  shaggy  covering  of  hair  which 
would  unfit  it  for  its  tropical  habitat,  none  the  less  should  we 
recognize  the  general  adaptiveness  between  each  race  and  its 
climatic  environment,  and  see  the  evidence  of  "design"  in  the 
provision  for  thus  peopHng  almost  every  country  in  which  Man 
can  maintain  his  existence,  with  races  of  Oxen  serving  for  his 
support. 

I  have  now,  in  fine,  to  ask  you  to  follow  me  through  an 
entirely  different  line  of  argument.  All  the  variations  among 
which  "natural  selection"  can  be  shown  to  have  any  effective 
operation,  have  reference  to  comparatively  insignificant  modifi- 
cations of  structure.  Let  us  grant,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that 
all  past  and  present  modifications  of  the  original  Bird  type  may 
have  thus  arisen.     But    on    the  mode  in  which   that   singularly 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  445 

specialized  type  came  into  existence, — in  which  that  most  won- 
derful feature  of  its  organization,  the  feather,  arose  out  of  the 
scaly  covering  of  its  Reptilian  ancestors, — in  which  its  heart  came 
to  be  divided  into  four  chambers  instead  of  three,  and  the  arrange- 
ment of  its  blood-vessels  altered  accordingly,  in  the  establishment 
of  the  "  complete  double  circulation,"  that  insures  the  perfect 
aeration  of  the  blood  needed  for  the  maintenance  of  the  extra- 
ordinary muscular  energy  by  which  the  feathered  wings  can 
sustain  the  body  in  flight, — I  cannot  see  that  "  natural  selection  " 
throws  the  least  light  There  is,  as  I  have  already  pointed  out, 
an  adaptation  in  the  several  parts  of  the  structure  of  the  Bird, 
not  only  to  one  general  result,  but  to  a  consentaneous  action  in 
bringing  about  that  result,  which  shows  itself  to  be  more  complete, 
the  more  closely  it  is  scrutinized.  And  on  the  hypothesis  of 
"natural  selection"  among  "aimless"  variations,  I  think  it  could 
be  shown  that  the  probability  is  infinitely  small,  that  the  pro- 
gressive modifications  required  in  the  structure  of  each  individual 
organ  to  convert  a  Reptile  into  a  Bird,  could  have  taken  place 
without  disturbing  the  required  harmony  in  their  combined 
action ;  nothing  but  intentional  pre-arrangement  being  competent 
to  bring  about  such  a  result.  And  the  point  on  wliich  I  now 
wish  to  fix  your  attention,  is  the  evidence  of  such  pre-arrange- 
ment that  is  furnished  by  \\\q  orderly  sequence  of  variations  allowing 
definite  lines  of  advance, 

I  shall  illustrate  this,  in  the  first  place,  by  a  general  outline 
of  a  Memoir  which  I  last  year  presented  to  the  Royal  Society,  in 
which  I  embodied  the  final  results  (as  relating  to  this  subject)  of 
an  inquiry  on  which  I  had  been  engaged  for  forty  years  into  the 
organization  of  the  Foraminifera ;  a  group  of  marine  animals  of 
the  simplest  protoplasmic  nature,  which  yet  form  for  themselves 
shelly  coverings  of  singular  regularity  and  complexity  of  structure, 
the  aggregation  of  whose  remains  forms  many  important  Lime- 
stone strata  (as  the  Nummulitic  limestone  of  which  the  Pyramids 
are  built,  and  the  Miliolite  limestone  which  has  furnished  the 
chief  building  material  of  Paris),  whilst  Chalk  is  a  product  of  their 
disintegration.  My  studies  of  this  group  began  with  a  compara- 
tively gigantic  type  called  the  Orbitolite ;  which  is  a  shelly  disk, 
sometimes  attaining  the  diameter  of  an  inch,  living  at  the  present 


446 


NATURE   AND  MAN. 


time  on  the  coast  of  Australia,  the  Fiji  reefs,  and  other  Pacific 
shores,  and  found  fossil  in  the  early  Tertiary  limestones  of  the 
north  of  France,  one  bed  of  which  is  in  great  degree  formed  of 
an  accumulation  of  disks  very  similar  to  those  now  piling  them- 
selves up  near  its  Antipodes.  1  was  supplied,  moreover,  with 
a  series  of  smaller  disks  (chiefly  picked  out  of  shore-sands),  down 
to  an  almost  microscopic  minuteness,  but  agreeing  with  the  larger 
in  this  fundamental  feature  of  their  structure, — the  arrangement 


Fig.  I. 

Shelly  Disk  of  Orbltolifes  complanata,  showing  concentric  rings  of 
chamberlets,  arranged  round  a  central  nucleus. 

of  their  mutually  connected  "  chamberlets  "  in  successive  circles 
round  a  central  "nucleus,"  their  plan  of  growth  being  thus  ry^r/zW. 
This  plan  is  most  fully  carried  out  in  typical  specimens  of  the 
large  Orbitolites  complanata  (Fig.  I.) ;  in  which  the  "  sarcodic 
nucleus,"  consisting  of  a  flask-shaped  "  primordial  segment,"  a, 
Fig.  IL,  and  of  a  "circumambient  segment,"  b,  b\  c,  is  at  once 
surrounded  by  a  complete  ring  of  sub-segments,  separately  budded 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD. 


447 


Fig.  II. 

Central  Portion  of  Animal 
Body  of  Orbit  oliles  com- 
planata. 


off  from  it ;  successive  rings,  with  constantly  increasing  numbers 
of  sub-segments,  being  in  like  manner 
budded  off  around  the  outer  border  of 
their  predecessors,  sometimes  to  the 
number  of  loo.  The  shell,  moulded 
upon  this  composite  body,  thus  ac- 
quires the  very  regular  discoidal  form 
shown  in  Fig.  I.  ;  and  its  vertical 
thickness  usually  increases  from  its 
centre  towards  its  circumference.  A 
vertical  section  of  the  disk  (Fig.  III., 
2)  shows  that  the  chamberlets  visible 
on  its  two  surfaces  form  two  super- 
ficial layers,  which  communicate  with 
continuous  annular  galleries  that  lie  just  beneath  them  (Fig.  III., 
3,  d' ,  d"),  every  chamberlet,  a,  opening  at  each  end  into  one  of 
these  galleries;  whilst  the  intermediate  part  of  the  disk  is  occupied 
by  columnar  chamberlets  (b,  b),  which  open  at  either  end  into  the 
annular  galleries,  and  are  connected  with  each  other  by  several 
ranges  of  oblique  passages  {e,  e,f,f).  The  passages  proceeding 
outwards  from  the  last-formed  ring,  open  on  the  margin  of  the 
disk  as  pores  arranged  in  more  or  less  regular  vertical  series  (Fig. 
III.,  i)  ;  and  these  pores  constitute  the  only  means  of  communi- 
cation between  the  complicated  cavitary  system  of  the  disks,  and 
the  surrounding  waters  from  which  the  animal  that  inhabits  them 
draws  its  nutriment.  The  substance  of  this  animal  is  apparently 
altogether  protoplasmic.  Notwithstanding  this  complexity  in  the 
structure  of  the  disk,  there  is  not  the  least  trace  of  differentiation 
in  the  contents  of  the  several  series  of  chamberlets.  On  the 
contrary,  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  a  continuous  inter- 
change must  be  always  going  on  between  the  protoplasmic  sub- 
stance of  the  central  and  that  of  the  peripheral  parts  of  the  disk ; 
so  that  the  nutriment  taken  in  by  the  "  pseudopodial "  extensions 
which  the  latter  puts  forth  through  the  marginal  pores,  may  be 
diffused  through  the  whole  multiple  series  of  sub-segments,  of 
which  the  body  of  this  organism  consists.  This  I  characterized 
as  the  "complex"  type  of  Orbitolite  structure. 

The  minute  disks  picked  out  of  shore-sands,  however,  were 


448 


NATURE  AND   MAN. 


found  to  present  a  much  simpler  plan  of  structure  ;  the  chamber- 
lets  being  arranged  in  a  single  plane  around  the  central  nucleus, 

/ 


cr. 


^^^^^'^^^^'%''':S^'^^^^^ 


Fig.  III. 
Structure  of  Shelly  Disk  of  Orbiioliies  complanata. 

1.  Edge  of  Disk,  showing  multiple  series  of  marginal  pores. 

2.  Vertical  Section,  showing  two  superficial  planes  of  chamberlets,  separated 
by  intermediate  columnar  structure. 

3.  Internal  Structure  : — a,  superficial  chamberlets ;  b,  b,  columnar  chamber- 
lets  of  intermediate  layer ;  c,  floors  of  superficial  chamberlets,  showing  the 
opening  at  each  end  into  the  annular  gallery  beneath  ;  d,  annular  galleries  cut 
transversely  ;  d',  d",  annular  galleries  laid  open  longitudinally  ;  e  e,ff,  oblique 
stolon  passages  of  the  intermediate  layer. 

those  of  each  ring  being  connected  by  a  single  annular  gallery. 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD. 


449 


and  their  openings  at  the  margin  forming  but  a  single  row  of 
pores  (Fig.  IV.,  i,  3,  4).  The  arrangement  of  the  first-formed 
chamberlets,  moreover,  presented  a  single  departure  from  the 
cyclical  plan,  showing  a  distinctly  ^/"/V^/ disposition  (Fig.  IV.,  2); 
the  mouth  of  the  spire,  however,  rapidly  opening  out  by  successive 


Fig.  IV. 
Disk  of  Simple  Type  of  OrbitoUtc. 

1.  Surface  of  Disk,  showing  later  growth  of  concentric  rings  of  chamberlets 
around  a  first-formed  spire. 

2.  Central  portion  enlarged. 

3.  Edge  of  Disk,  showing  single  row  of  marginal  pores. 

4.  Vertical  Section,  showing  succession  of  chamJjerlets  communicating 
with  each  other  radially  by  passages  in  the  annular  partitions,  and  laterally  by 
the  annular  canals,  whose  sections  are  seen  as  dark  spots. 


additions,  so  as  to  enclose  the  "  nucleus  "  ;  after  which  all  suc- 
ceeding additions  were  complete  rings,  so  that  the  cyclical  plan 


450  NATURE   AND  MAN. 

came  to  be  completely  established.  This  I  designated  as  the 
"  simple "  type  of  OrbitoUte  structure. 

I  was  further  able  to  show  that  these  two  typical  forms  were 
connected  by  a  gradational  series  of  connecting  links ;  the  forma- 
tion of  disks  of  the  "complex"  type  often  commencing  on  a 
plan  resembling  that  of  the  "  simple  ;  "  and  the  change  from  the 
latter  to  the  former  taking  place,  not  at  any  fixed  epoch  of  growth, 
but  after  a  variable  number  of  rings  had  been  formed,  sometimes 
abruptly,  sometimes  more  gradually,  in  the  manner  to  be  presently 
detailed.  And  I  also  found  that  the  inner  rings  of  even  the  largest 
"complex"  disks,  if  their  early  growth  had  taken  place  on  the 
"simple"  type,  were  not  complete,  but  showed  a  tendency  to 
one-sided  and  therefore  spiral  growth,  like  that  seen  in  Fig.  VI.,  3. 

Reflecting  on  the  relations  of  these  highly  specialized  Forami- 
niferal  types  to  the  simpler  forms  of  the  Milioline  group,  to  which 
(in  virtue  of  the  "  porcellanous "  character  of  their  shells)  I 
referred  them,  I  ventured  to  construct  a  hypothetical  pedigree; 
tracing  their  descent  (Fig.  V.)  from  the  particle  of  protoplasm 
that  forms  the  spheroidal  chamber  in  which  every  Forarainiferal 
shell  begins,  first  to  an  open  undivided  spiral  (i) ;  then  to  a  type 
in  which  the  spire  is  constricted  at  intervals  (2) ;  then  to  a  type  in 
which  it  is  completely  divided  into  chambers  by  transverse  par- 
titions (3) ;  then  to  a  type  in  which  the  spirally  arranged  chambers 
are  divided  by  longitudinal  partitions  into  chamberlets  (4) ;  then  to 
the  "simple  "  type  oi  orbitolites,  in  which  the  spiral  plan  of  growth 
gives  place  to  the  cyclical  (5);  then  to  an  "intermediate"  type, 
in  which  the  original  spiral  alm.ost  disappears  (6) ;  and  finally 
to  the  "complex"  type,  in  which  the  plan  is  cyclical  from  the 
beginning  (7). 

This  hypothetical  pedigree  has  found  its  complete  confirmation 
in  a  deep-sea  OrbitoUte  of  extraordinary  delicacy  and  beauty,  which 
was  brought  up  in  the  Porcupine  Expedition  of  1S69.  For  this 
little  disk,  about  the  size  of  a  fourpenny  piece,  while  for  the  most 
part  truly  cyclical,  has  a  long  succession  of  inner  chamberlets 
arranged  upon  the  spiral  plan,  as  in  Oi-hiadina ;  these,  again, 
arise  from  expanded  but  undivided  chambers,  like  those  of  a 
Peneroplis;  and  these  chambers  are  the  continuation  of  a  spiral 
tube,  with  occasional  constrictions,  resembling  that  of  a  Spirolo- 


DESIGN  IN   THE   ORGANIC    WORLD. 


451 


Fig.  V. 

Diagram  illustrating  the  Pedigree  of  the  Complex  type  of  Orbitolite, 

Simple  undivided  Spire  of  Coniuspii-a. 
Partially  interrupted  Spire  of  Spiroloculina. 
Spire  of  Peneroplis,  divided  by  partitions  into  chambers. 
Spire  of  Orbkiilina,  its  chambers  divided  into  rows  of  chamberlets. 
Disk  of  "simple"  Orbitolite,  showing  first-formed  spire,  surrounded  by 
concentric  rings. 

6.  Disk  of  "duplex"  Orbitolite,  showing  earlier  passage  from  spiral  to 
cyclical  plan  of  growth. 

7.  Central  portion  of  Disk  of  "complex"  Orbitolite,  in  which  the  cham- 
bered nucleus  alone  shows  an  abbreviated  spire,  the  very  first  row  of  chamber- 
lets  forming  a  complete  ring. 


I. 

2. 

3- 

4- 
5- 


452  J^'ATURE  AND  31  AN. 

aiHfia,  coiling  continuously  round  a  primordial  chamber,  as  in 
Cornuspira.  Thus,  in  this  interesting  organism  we  find  permanently 
represented  the  whole  developmental  history  of  the  "  simple  "  type 
of  Orbitolite  from  the  primordial  jelly-speck.  The  large  Challenger 
collection  of  Orbitolites,  made  on  the  Fiji  reef,  has  furnished  me 
with  the  means  of  still  more  completely  working  out  the  transition 
from  the  "simple"  to  the  "complex"  type;  a  distinctly  inter- 
mediate type  there  presenting  itself  in  great  abundance.  This, 
which  I  term  the  "duplex"  type  (Fig.  VL,  i),  resembles  the 
"simple"  in  having  its  annular  series  of  chamberlets  disposed  in 
a  single  plane,  and  in  the  connection  of  the  chamberlets  of  each 
ring  by  a  single  annular  canal ;  but  differs  in  having  its  successive 
rings  connected  by  a  double  series  of  radial  passages,  which  issue 
on  the  edge  of  the  disk  (Fig.  VI.,  2)  as  marginal  pores.  The 
columnar  sub-segments,  a  a',  b  b\  of  each  ring  are  strung,  as  it 
were,  on  the  annular  cord,  c  c' ;  and  this  sends  off  an  upper  and 
a  lower  series  of  stolon-processes,  d  d,  d'd',  which  pass  into  the 
upper  and  lower  halves  of  the  sub-segments  of  the  next  ring. — 
The  plan  of  growth  in  the  first-formed  portion,  shown  in  Fig.  VL, 
3,  is  singularly  intermediate  between  that  of  the  "simple"  and  that 
of  the  "  complex  "  type.  The  regular  spire  of  the  former  is  now 
reduced  to  the  single  turn  made  by  the  "  circumambient  segment," 
b  b,  round  the  "primordial  segment"  a ;  but  a  partial  continuance 
of  the  same  plan  is  shown  in  the  incompleteness  of  the  first  two  or 
three  rings  of  sub-segments  ;  these  being  budded  forth  from  only 
half  of  the  "  circumambient  segment,"  instead  of  from  its  whole 
periphery,  as  in  the  typical  "complex"  Orbitolite  (¥\g.  II.).  Yet 
even  in  large  disks,  whose  later  growth  is  characteristically  "  com- 
plex," the  nucleus  and  earlier  rings  are  often  formed  on  the 
"  duplex  "  plan,  which  passes  into  the  "  complex  "  in  the  manner 
to  be  now  described. 

Believing,  with  Sir  James  Paget,  that  "  the  highest  laws  of 
"biological  science  are  expressed  in  their  simplest  terms  in  the 
"  lives  of  the  lowest  orders  of  creation,"  I  shall  now  ask  you  to 
follow  me  through  a  detailed  examination  of  the  transition  from 
one  type  to  the  other ;  as  shown  in  Fig.  VII.,  which  represents 
a  vertical  section,  taken  in  a  radial  direction,  of  one  of  those  large 
"complex"  disks  whose  life  was  commenced  on  the  plan  of  the 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD. 


453 


"  simple."     The  first-formed  series  of  chamberlets  (w,  w^,  m^,  m^, 
m*)  exactly  correspond  with  those  of  the  "simple"  type  (Fig.  IV., 


liPH^^Si 


Fig.  VI. 

1.  Disk  of  Duplex  type  of  OrbitoUte. 

2.  Edge  of  Disk,  showing  double  row  of  marginal  pores. 

3.  Central  portion  of  Sarcode  body : — a,  primordial  segment ;  b,  circum- 
ambient segment,  budding  off  a  half-ring  of  sub-segments,  from  uhich 
complete  rings  are  afterwards  formed. 

4.  Portion  of  the  Sarcodic  body  of  one  ring  ;  a  a!  and  b  //,  the  two  halves 
of  the  columnar  suli-segments  in  connection  with  c  c',  the  annular  cord  ;  from 
this  are  given  off  the  pairs  of  stolon-processes  d  d' ,  d  d' ,  which  connect  it  with 
the  sub-segments  of  the  next  annulus. 


454  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

4),  constituting  but  a  single  plane  ;    those  of  each  series  being 
connected  together  by  a  single  continuous  annular  gallery  (shown 
in  cross-section  at  (ac,  ac),  while  those  of  each  series  are  connected 
with  those  of  the  next  by  single  radial  passages  (r,  r,  r),  which,  as 
each  annulus  was  formed,  would  open  at  its  outer  edge  as  a  single 
row  of  marginal  pores.     Bat  these  are  surrounded  by  rings  {d,  d}, 
cP)  in  which,  while  the  annular  canal    is  still    single,  two  radial 
passages  (r)  go  off  from  it  obliquely,  one  into  the  upper  and  the 
other   into  the   lower   portion  of  each   chamberlet  of  the  next 
annular  series,   those  of  the  last-formed   annulus  showing  them- 
selves at  its  edge  as  a  double  row  of  marginal  pores.      From  this 
"duplex"  type,  the  first  advance  towards  the  "complex"  is  shown 
at  e,  e^,  in  the  splitting,  so  to  speak,  of  each  annular  canal  into 
two  {ac,  ac'\  and  the  interposition  of  a  columnar  cavity  {m,  in) 
between  its  two  halves.     Now,  in  the  inner  (or  earlier-formed)  of 
the  annuli  which  show  this  complication  {e^  e^),  the  two  series  of 
chamberlets  {s  s,  s'  s')  which  lie  between  the  two  annular  canals 
and  the  two  surfaces  of  the  disk,  are  continuous  with  the  inter- 
mediate columnar  chamberlets,  and  bear  the  same  relation  to  their 
respective  annular  canals  as  in  the  "  duplex "  type,  each  being 
connected  with  one  canal  only  ;  and  this  stage  of  differentiation 
characterizes  the  Orbitolites  of  the  French  Tertiaries,  which  seem 
to  have  attained  their  full  growth  without  any  advance  upon  it. 
But  in  the  large  Orbitolite  disks  of  Australia  and  Fiji,  I  find  this 
simpler   arrangement    giving    place  to   a   more    complicated   one 
(/,  /I,  /^,  /^) ;  the  chamberlets  of  the  two  superficial  layers  being 
separated    from    those   of   the   intermediate    layer,  and    being  so 
shifted  in  position,  that  each  annular  series  lies  over  the  interval 
between  two  annular  canals,  and  communicates  with  both  of  them  ; 
while  the  sarcodic  body  which  occupies  this  cavitary  system  thus 
comes   to    have    the    more    complicated    arrangement    shown    in 
Fig.  VIII.     With  the  increase  in  the  thickness  of  the  intermediate 
layer,  the  double  row  of  marginal  pores  of  the  "  duplex "  type 
gives  place  to  the  multiple  series  (Fig.  VII.,  ;;//)  of  the  "complex." 
Now  it  seems  to  me  impossible  not  to  recognize  the  fact,  that 
the  evolution  of  this  type  has  taken  place  along  a  definite  course  ; 
every  stage  being  one  oi  progress,  and  each  being  (so  to  speak)  a 
preparation  for  the  next.     This,  perhaps,  will  be  most  clearly  seen 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD. 


455 


Fig.  VII. 

Diagrammatic  representation  of  the 
transition  from   the   "  simple  "  to  the 
"  complex  "  plan  of  growth,  as  shown 
in  vertical  section,  from  the  primordial 
and  circumambient  chambers  {c p  c')  of 
the  centre,  to  the  margin,  whose  pores 
are  shown  at  mp.     The  chambers  ;;/, 
wS  m'^,  m^,  m^,  are  all  formed  upon  the 
smple  type   (as  in  Fig.  IV.,  4),  and 
show  at  ac,  ac,  the  cross    sections  of 
the  annular  canals,  which  connect  all 
the  chamberlets    of  one   ring,  and  at 
r,  r,  r,  the  radial  passages  connecting 
the  successive  annuli.     The  chambers 
d,  d^,  d^,  are  formed  upon  the  duplex 
type  ;  the  annular  canals,  ac,  ac,  being 
single,  but  the  radial  passages  r  being 
double.    The  chambers  e,  e\  show  two 
annular  canals  ac,  ac,  between  which 
is  interposed  a  columnar  chamberlet, 
continuous    with    the    two    superficial 
chamberlets  s  s'.     In  the  chambers  /, 
f^,p,p,  to  the  margin,  which  are  all 
formed  on  the  fully-developed  complex 
type,  the  upper  and  under  superficial 
chamberlets  ss,s'  s',  are  completely  cut 
off    from    the    intermedi-ite   columnar 
portion,    and,    by   a   shifting   of  their 
position,  each  is  made  to  communicate 
with  two  annular  canals. 


w^-- 


Hm 


S| 


V. 


■-.I 


^UL^l 


/I 


iry-y^^'- 


m¥ 


m 


J 


I 


456  NATURE  AND  MAN. 

by  looking  at  the  progressive  complication  in  the  structure  of  the 
sarcodic  body  on  which  the  shell  is  modelled.  First,  we  have  a 
simple  pear-shaped  particle,  extending  itself  into  a  cord  that  lies 
in  a  continuous  spiral  around  it,  with  constrictions  at  intervals. 
This  spire  flattens  out ;  and  then,  by  the  formation  of  transverse 
partitions,  traversed  by  pores,  the  successive  additions  become 
segmentally  separated  from  each  other,  though  mutually  connected 
by  sarcodic  extensions.  Next,  these  segments  undergo  a  further 
division  into  sub-segments :  all  those  forming  each  row  being 
strung  (as  it  were)  on  a  continuous  sarcodic  cord,  which  connects 
them  laterally  ;  while  the  successive  rows  are  connected,  as  before, 
by  radial  "  stolon  processes,"  those  of  the  last-formed  row  issuing 
forth  through  the  marginal  pores,  as  the  pseudopodia,  through 
which  nutriment  is  absorbed  for  the  entire  body.  Then,  by  the 
opening  out  of  the  spire,  the  lateral  connecting  cords  become 
complete  rings,  from  which  the  radial  stolon-processes  are  given 
off;  and  the  future  increase  of  the  "simple"  type  consists  in  the 
formation  of  new  circular  series  of  sub-segments,  each  strung,  as 
it  were,  on  its  own  annular  cord.  Now,  the  advance  towards  the 
"  complex  "  type  is  prepared  for,  so  to  speak,  by  the  sending  forth 
of  two  sets  of  radial  stolon-processes  instead  of  one  ; — a  change 
which,  taken  by  itself,  is  meaningless,  since  every  one  who  is 
familiar  with  the  variability  of  the  Rhizopodal  type  (especially  as 
exhibited  in  the  transitional  forms  between  Peneroplis  and  De?i- 
dritina)  knows  that  it  cannot  make  any  difference  to  the  animal 
whether  its  pseudopodia  issue  from  the  margin  of  the  disk,  through 
a  single  or  through  a  double  row  of  pores ;  but  which  is  full  of 
meaning  when  regarded  as  a  preparation  for  that  splitting  of  each 
annular  cord  into  two,  in  which  the  transition  from  the  "  simple  " 
to  the  "  complex  "  type  essentially  consists.  Every  annulus  of 
the  body  of  the  latter  consists  of  a  series  of  columnar  segments 
(Fig.  VIII.,  e  e,  e'  e'),  passing  at  each  end  into  an  annular  cord 
{a  a',  b  b'),  and  communicating  with  the  series  internal  and 
external  to  it,  by  oblique  stolon-passages,  the  number  of  which  is 
related  to  the  length  of  the  columns  ;  this  again,  determining  the 
thickness  of  the  calcareous  disk  which  is  modelled  upon  them. 
The  sub-segments  of  the  two  superficial  layers  {c  c,  d  d)  do  not 
communicate  with  each  other ;  but  those  of  each  circlet  are  con- 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC   WORLD. 


457 


nected  (as  already  described)  with  the  two  annular  cords  that  lie 
beneath.  And  by  this  elaborate 
arrangement,  every  part  of  the 
minutely  subdivided  protoplas- 
mic body  which  occupies  the 
minutely  sub-divided  cavity  of 
these  disks,  is  brought  into  con- 
tinuous relation  with  every  other 
part,  and  with  the  peripheral  an- 
nulus  whose  marginal  pores  con- 
stitute the  only  access  through 
which  nutriment  can  reach  it 
from  without. 

I  might  further  illustrate  my 
argument  that  we  have  here  the 
obvious  indication  of  a  pre- 
arranged plan,  by  the  remark- 
able provision  made,  not  merely 
for  the  reparation  of  injuries, 
but  for  the  restoration  of  the 
typical  form  when  the  disk  has 
been  so  much  broken  as  to 
destroy  that  form  completely. 
Even  a  broken-off  marginal  frag- 
ment may  give  origin  to  a  new 


Fig.  VIII. 

Portion  of  Sarcodic  body  of  Com- 
plex Orbitolite  : — a  a',  b  b' ,  upper 
and  lower  annular  cords  of  two  con- 
centric zones ;  c  c,  upper  layer  of 
superficial  sub-segments ;  d  d,  the 
lower  layer  ;  e  e  and  e'  e\  interme- 
diate columnar  sub-segments  of  the 
two  zones,  giving  off  oblique  stolon- 
processes. 


disk  ;  its  sarcodic  body  extend- 
ing itself  all  round  it,  so  as  to  form  a  continuous  band ;  and  this 
forming  a  complete  annulus  of  chamberlets,  round  which  new 
annuli  are  successively  added. 

In  the  Life-history  of  the  perfected  type,  then,  we  can  clearly 
trace  a  sequence  which  runs  exactly  parallel  to  what  we  have 
reason  to  regard  as  its  Evolutionary  history,  and,  in  addition,  a 
provision  for  the  maintenance  of  the/^//(?(;"/(!'^mode! ;  the  reparative 
process  being  carried  on — alike  in  the  "  simple,"  the  "duplex," 
and  the  "  complex "  types  —  upon  the  plan  characteristic  of 
each. 

But  my  special  reason  for  dwelling  upon  this  "instance"  (as 
Bacon  would  call  it)  is,  that  the  influence  of  Natural  Selection 


458  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

would  here  seem  to  be  excluded  by  the  fact  that  the  whole  series 
of  ancestral  forms  through  which  the  most  elaborately  constructed 
Orbitolite  now  existing  may  be  assumed  to  have  passed,  continue 
to  live  and  flourish  at  the  present  time.  The  very  same  dredging 
may  bring  up  shells  of  Cormispira,  constructed  upon  the  undivided 
spiral  plan  shown  in  Fig.  V.,  i  ;  shells  of  Spiroloculina,  in  which 
the  spiral  is  partially  interrupted  by  rudimentary  partitions,  as  at 
2  ;  shells  of  Peneroplis,  in  which  the  partitions  are  complete,  bu 
traversed  by  pores,  as  at  3  ;  shells  of  Orbiculina,  in  which  the 
peneropline  chambers  are  divided  into  chamberlets,  the  plan 
of  growth  still  remaining  spiral,  as  at  4 ;  and  shells  of  the  three 
types  of  cyclically  growing  Orbitolites  5,  6,  7.  As  already 
stated,  the  condition  of  the  sarcodic  body  undergoes  no  corre- 
sponding advance  \  that  of  the  most  "  complex  "  Orbitolite  being  as 
homogeneous  or  undifferentiated  as  that  of  the  simple  Cornuspira. 
There  is  no  evidence  whatever  of  any  "  struggle  for  existence  "  or 
"  survival  of  the  fittest "  ;  all  showing  themselves  equally  fit  to 
survive.  All  "  variation "  seems  to  have  taken  place  in  such  a 
definite  direction,  as  to  evolve  calcareous  fabrics  of  ever-increasing 
complexity  ;  but  this  complexity  can  scarcely  give  any  advantage 
to  the  organisms  which  have  attained  it,  these  being  fully  as 
incapable  as  the  simpler  forms  of  escaping  from  their  enemies  by 
movement,  and  showing  no  such  differences  of  aspect  as  would 
enable  them  to  elude  observation.  In  fact,  the  Fishes  and  larger 
Crustaceans  which  would  probably  be  their  chief  destroyers,  would 
be  likely  to  be  most  attracted  by  the  larger  disks  of  the  "  com- 
plex" type;  while  the  younger  specimens  of  that  type,  being 
indistinguishable  except  by  the  Microscopist  from  full-grown 
specimens  of  the  "simple"  and  "  duplex"  types,  are  not  likely  to 
be  passed  over  by  any  hungry  destroyer  that  might  find  these  latter 
of  more  suitable  dimensions. 

The  last  remark  I  have  to  make  in  relation  to  this  noteworthy 
"  instance,"  is  that  its  value  is  not  in  the  least  degree  lessened 
by  the  fact  that  the  evolutionary  process  seems  to  be  dependent 
upon  physical  agencies.  The  Orbitolite  type  (as  at  present  known 
to  us)  flourishes  best  in  tropical  or  sub-tropical  seas  ;  the  largest 
"  complex  "  forms  yet  discovered  being  found  on  the  Fiji  reefs  ; 
while   the   smallest   "  simple  "  forms  only  extend  as  far  north  as 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  459 

the  Mediterranean, — with  the  singular  exception  of  the  deep-sea 
type  found  to  the  west  of  Ireland,  which  is  probably  a  survival 
from  the  warmer  climate  of  some  former  epoch.  And  among  the 
specimens  collected  by  the  C/ialienger  on  the  Fiji  reef,  I  have 
found  a  marked  difference  ;  all  the  most  highly-developed  forms 
of  the  "  complex  "  type  having  been  found  near  the  surface,  where 
the  temperature  is  the  highest,  and  the  supply  of  food  most 
abundant.  But  it  can  no  more  be  said  that  these  physical 
agencies  produced  the  advance,  than  that  heat  can  viake  a  chick 
out  of  the  yolk  and  white  of  an  egg,  without  a  germ  to  appro- 
priate and  build  up  these  materials.  These  physical  agencies 
supply  only  the  conditions  required  for  the  evolutionary  process, 
— the  source  or  spring  of  which  is  in  the  germ  itself 

As  Natural  Selection  gives  no  account  of  the  changes  in  the 
plan  of  groivth  which  constitute  so  marked  a  feature  in  the  evo- 
lutionary history  of  the  Orbitolite,  so,  as  it  seems  to  me,  it  gives 
no  explanation  of  the  appearance  of  nciv  organs :  the  complete 
possession  of  which  fits  their  possessors  for  a  higher  condition  of 
existence,  and  accords  with  other  modifications  that  enable  them 
to  take  advantage  of  it-  but  which,  in  their  rudimentary  state, 
cannot  be  conceived  to  be  of  any  service  to  animals  altogether 
framed  upon  a  less  advanced  type,  and  continuing  to  live  in 
accordance  with  lower  conditions.  And  I  shall  take,  as  a  suitable 
"instance,"  what  is  known  as  the  "swimming  bladder"  of  the 
Fish,  which  is  an  earlier  form  of  the  organ  that  becomes  a  lung  in 
air-breathing  Vertebrata. 

In  the  Vertebrate  series  we  pass  by  a  succession  of  stages  from 
the  Fish,  with  gills  fitted  only  for  aquatic  respiration,  to  the  Reptile 
which  is  fitted  only  for  aerial  respiration  :  the  intermediate  being 
the  true  Amphibia,  which,  as  regards  their  respiratory  apparatus, 
are  fish  in  their  early  stage,  and  reptiles  in  the  complete  stage  ; 
some  of  them  retaining  their  gills  even  after  the  development  of 
their  lungs,  so  as  to  be  able  to  live  either  in  air  or  in  water. 
Now,  the  first  rudiment  of  a  "swimming  bladder"  that  we  meet 
with  in  Fishes,  is  a  little  diverticulum  or  pouch  opening  off  from 
the  pharynx  or  gullet ;  and  this  extends  itself  in  many  cases  so 
as  to  become  a  bag  or  sac,  lying  along  the  spine,  but  entirely  cut 
off,  by  the  closure  of  its  neck,  from  any  communication  with  the 


46o  NATURE   AND   MAN. 

gullet.  Such  fish  cannot  take  into  it  any  air  from  the  outside  ;  so 
that  the  air  which  is  found  in  the  sac  in  some  instances,  would 
seem  to  have  been  secreted  from  the  blood.  It  is  commonly  sup- 
posed that  the  fish  uses  this  bladder  for  so  regulating  its  specific 
gravity  as  to  rise  or  sink  in  the  water ;  but  there  is  no  adequate 
basis  for  this  hypothesis.  For  there  is  no  muscular  structure  in 
the  bag  to  cause  it  to  increase  or  diminish  in  size  ;  and  there  is 
no  outside  arrangement  of  muscles  that  can  be  conceived  to 
answer  this  purpose.  Moreover,  when  deep-sea  Fish,  having  a 
closed  swimming-bladder,  are  brought  to  the  surface,  their  swim- 
ming-bladders burst  in  consequence  of  the  removal  of  external 
pressure,  and  the  fish  are  killed.  The  most  singular  thing  is, 
that  there  are  genera  of  fish,  the  Scomber  (or  Mackerel  tribe)  for 
instance,  of  which  some  species  have  a  swimming-bladder,  and 
others  none  ;  and  it  cannot  be  affirmed  that  the  latter  are  less 
able  to  swim  at  different  depths  than  the  former.  This  swimming- 
bladder,  in  certain  other  forms  of  fish,  retains  its  original  com- 
munication with  the  pharynx ;  and  air  can  then  pass  into  it  from 
the  outside.  Carp  in  ponds  are  often  seen  to  swallow  air;  and 
you  may  occasionally  see  gold-fish,  which  are  a  kind  of  carp, 
coming  to  the  surface  of  the  water  of  the  globes  in  which  they  are 
kept,  discharging  air-bubbles  and  taking  in  a  fresh  supply.  It 
seems  pretty  certain,  then,  that  there  are  fish  which  use  this  rudi- 
mentary lung  really  for  the  purpose  of  respiration ;  certainly  the 
Ganoid  fishes  do,  which  are  a  most  important  group  in  the  evolu- 
tionary series,  connecting  Fishes  with  Reptiles. 

Now,  of  the  first  appearance  of  this  organ,  and  of  its  develop- 
ment into  a  closed  air-bladder,  it  seems  to  me  that  Natural  Selec- 
tion gives  no  account  whatever.  Let  it  be  supposed  that  the 
pharyngeal  pouch  "formed  itself"  in  some  ancestral  fish  as  an 
"aimless"  variation;  how  can  it  be  conceived  to  have  been  of 
such  service  to  the  animals  which  possessed  it,  that  they  beat 
others  in  the  struggle  for  existence, — when  we  do  not  find  this  to 
be  the  case  even  with  the  fully-developed  swimming-bladder? 
And  how  can  we  account  for  the  progressive  elongation  of  the 
pouch  into  a  closed  swimming-bladder,  if,  in  this  condition,  it  is 
of  no  use  to  its  possessors  ?  To  me  it  seems  as  if  the  whole 
evolutionary  history  of  this  organ  plainly  poii  ts  to   its  ulterior 


DESIGN  IN   THE   ORGANIC    WORLD.  461 

development   into  an  organ  for  atmospheric  respiration;  and  is 
unmeaning  if  not  so  viewed. 

So,  again,  we  may  trace  a  remarkable  uniformity  in  the  line 
of  progress  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  forms  of  pulmonary 
apparatus.  The  purpose  which  the  lung  has  to  serve  being  the 
exposure  of  the  blood  to  the  air  over  an  extended  surface,  that 
extension  must  be  proportionate  to  the  demand  for  aeration  set 
up  by  the  muscular  activity  and  temperature-standard  of  the 
animal.  The  swimming-bladder  of  the  Fish,  even  when  used  for 
atmospheric  respiration,  is  a  simple,  undivided  sac,  or,  as  in  the 
Ganoids,  a  pair  of  such  sacs.  The  lung  of  the  Frog  has  its  internal 
surface  increased  by  its  extension  into  a  number  of  little  pockets 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  principal  cavity.  The  same  is  the  case 
in  the  Snake,  and  in  many  other  Reptiles ;  each  lung  having  a 
large  undivided  cavity,  with  diverticula  in  its  walls,  over  the 
extended  surface  of  which  the  blood-vessels  are  minutely  dis- 
tributed. In  some  of  the  higher  Reptiles,  as  the  Crocodile,  the 
cavity  of  the  lung  exhibits  an  incipient  subdivision.  In  the  lung 
of  Man,  as  of  Mammals  generally,  an  extraordinary  increase  is 
given  to  the  extent  of  aerating  surface,  by  the  excessively  minute 
subdivision  of  the  cavity  into  air-cells  ;  of  which  thousands  are 
clustered  round  the  end  of  each  terminal  twig  of  the  bronchial 
tree.  But  this  increase  would  be  without  effect,  if  there  were  not 
at  the  same  time  a  most  elaborate  provision  in  the  skeleton  of 
the  trunk,  in  the  disposition  of  its  muscles,  and  in  the  mode  in 
which  these  are  acted  on  by  the  nervous  apparatus,  for  alter- 
nately filling  and  emptying  the  lungs,  so  as  to  take  in  fresh  sup- 
plies of  oxygen  for  the  aeration  of  the  blood,  and  to  get  rid  of  the 
carbonic  acid  which  it  gives  off.  The  chief  feature  in  this  pro- 
vision is  the  enclosure  of  the  lungs  in  a  distinct  cavity  (that  of 
the  chest)  cut  off  from  the  abdomen  by  a  muscular  partition — the 
diaphragm  ;  the  contraction  of  which,  by  increasing  the  capacity 
of  the  chest,  produces  an  in-rush  of  air  down  the  air-passages, 
which  penetrates  to  the  remotest  parts  of  the  minutely-subdivided 
cavity  of  the  lungs.  By  no  other  action  could  the  air  contained 
in  that  cavity  be  so  effectually  renewed.  Thus  the  pulmonary 
apparatus  of  the  Mammal  is  the  most  perfect  form  that  could  be 
devised  for  obtaining  the  highest  amount  of  respiratory  power 
within  the  smallest  compass. 


462  NATURE  AND   MAN. 

But  the  Bird  requires  a  yet  more  active  respiration  than  the 
Mammal :  being  far  higher  in  point  of  animal  activity.  It  must 
put  forth  far  more  muscular  power  in  proportion  to  its  size,  in 
order  to  raise  itself  in  the  air;  and  it  must  be  able  to  sustain 
that  power  for  a  great  length  of  time.  Its  animal  energy  can 
only  be  kept  up  by  the  maintenance  of  a  higher  temperature. 
All  this  involves  a  much  larger  consumption  of  oxygen,  and  a 
greater  production  of  carbonic  acid.  Hence  you  would  suppose 
that  if  "  natural  selection  "  had  in  any  way  worked  out  the  respi- 
ratory apparatus  of  a  Bird,  it  would  be  a  more  highly  organized 
instrument  than  that  of  a  Mammal.  So  far,  however,  is  this  from 
being  the  case,  that  the  lung  of  the  Bird  is  really  formed  upon  the 
lower  plan  of  the  lung  of  the  Reptile.  Instead  of  having  the 
minutely  subdivided  air-cells  of  the  Mammalian  lung,  the  lung  of 
the  Bird  is  an  aggregation  of  little  lunglets,  each  resembling  the 
entire  lung  of  the  Frog ;  and  instead  of  the  provision  made  in 
the  general  structure  of  the  Mammal  for  the  constant  renewal  of 
the  air  in  the  cavity  of  the  lungs,  we  find  the  diaphragm  absent, 
and  the  bony  framework  of  the  trunk  so  firmly  knit  together  (thus 
affording  fixed  attachments  for  the  powerful  muscles  of  flight)  as 
to  be  incapable  of  the  movement  which  our  ribs  and  sternum 
perform  in  aid  of  the  action  of  the  diaphragm.  How,  then,  is 
the  more  active  respiration  required  by  the  Bird  provided  for  ? 
Just  as  in  the  Insect,  to  which  Birds  have  so  many  analogies, — 
by  the  extension  of  the  respiratory  surface  through  the  body 
generally.  The  long  bones,  instead  of  being  filled  with  marrow, 
are  hollow ;  and  their  cavities  are  connected  with  each  other  and 
with  that  of  the  lung  on  either  side :  there  are  also  air-sacs  dis- 
posed in  various  parts,  which  probably  take  a  share  in  the  same 
action.  Further,  by  the  elasticity  of  the  framework  of  the  trunk, 
the  lungs  are  kept  full  of  air,  the  state  of  emptiness  being  forced ; 
so  that  when  they  have  been  compressed  by  a  muscular  effort, 
they  fill  themselves  again  spontaneously  as  soon  as  the  pressure  is 
relaxed. 

Thus,  looking  at  the  general  plan  of  the  respiratory  apparatus, 
we  find  it  undergoing  a  uniformly  progressive  elevation  of  type,  as 
we  pass  from  the  Fish  to  the  Reptile,  from  the  Reptile  to  the  Bird, 
and  from  the  Bird  to  the  Mammal.     But  if  there  was  no  pre- 


DESIGN  IN   THE    ORGANIC    WORLD.  463 

ordained  plan,  if  this  advance  resulted  from  mere  "  accidental " 
variations,  we  should  have  expected  that  some  Bird  would  have 
been  evolved  by  "  natural  selection "  with  the  lung  of  the 
Mammal ;  and  that  this  form,  by  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  would 
have  established  itself  to  the  exclusion  of  the  lower  type.  On  the 
contrary,  without  any  advance  on  the  lower  plan  of  Ornithic  struc- 
ture, an  extension  has  been  given  to  its  respiratory  surface,  which 
supplies  all  the  needs  of  the  most  actively  flying  Bird,  and  makes 
that  apparatus  as  perfect,  in  its  relation  to  the  general  plan,  as  if 
that  apparatus  had  been  exceptionally  raised  to  a  higher  grade  of 
development. 

Here  then,  as  in  the  preceding  instance,  we  seem  justified  in 
the  conclusion  that,  as  the  doctrine  of  Natural  Selection  out  of 
an  endless  diversity  of  "  aimless  "  variations  fails  to  account  for 
that  general  consistency  of  the  advance  along  definite  lines  of  progress 
which  is  manifested  in  the  history  of  evolution  (the  two  cases  I 
have  brought  before  you  being  merely  samples  of  an  immense 
aggregate,  whose  cumulative  force  seems  to  me  irresistible),  it 
leaves  untouched  the  evidence  of  Design  in  the  original  scheme  of 
the  Organized  Creation  ;  while  it  transfers  the  idea  of  that  Design 
from  the  particular  to  the  general,  making  all  the  special  cases  of 
adaptation  the  foreknown  results  of  the  adoption  of  that  general 
Order  which  we  call  Law. — As  Dr.  Martineau  has  pertinently 
asked,  "  If  it  takes  mind  to  construe  the  world,  how  can  it  require 
"the  negation  of  mmd  to  constitute  it.?"  Science,  being  the 
intellectual  interpretation  of  Nature,  cannot  possibly  disprove  its 
origin  in  Mind  ;  and,  if  rightly  pursued,  leads  us  only  to  a  higher 
comprehension  of  the  "  bright  designs,"  a  more  assured  recog- 
nition of  the  working  of  the  "  sovereign  will,"  of  its  Divine  Author. 


21 


APPENDIX. 


LIST  OF  DR.  CARPENTER'S  WRITINGS.* 


1835-^    I,  2.  On  the  Structure  and  Functions  of  the  Organs  of 
1836.  J  Respiration   in    the  Animal   and  Vegetable  King- 

doms {West  of  England  Journal,  October,  1835; 
January,  1836). 

1836.  3.  A  Sketch  of  the  Present  State  of  our  Knowledge  of 

the  Laws  of  Chemical  Combination,  with  some  of 
their  more  Important  Applications  {Ibid.,  January). 

1837.  4.  Oration  delivered  before  the  Members  of  the  Royal 

Medical  Society  of  Edinburgh,  at  the  Celebration 
of  their  Centenary,  February  17,  1837. 

5.  On  the  Voluntary  and  Instinctive  Actions  of  Living 

Beings  (communicated  to  the  Royal  Medical 
Society,  March  23 ;  printed  in  the  Edinburgh 
Medical  and  Surgical  Journal,  No.  132). 

6.  On  Unity  of  Function   in   Organized    Beings   (com- 

municated to  the  Royal  Medical  Society,  April  14; 
printed  in  the  Edinburgh  New  Philosophical  Journal, 

.  July). 

7.  Lindley,  Henslow,  De  Candolle,  Treviranus,  Raspail, 

on    Vegetable    Physiology    {British    and    Foreign 
Medical  Review,  July). 
1838-54.     8-1 1.  Principles  of  General  and  Comparative  Phy- 

*  This  list  does  not  include  occasional  letters  to  newspapers  on  controversial 
matters  ;  and  it  is  possible  that  sundry  early  articles  in  various  reviews,  cyclo- 
piedias,  etc.,  have  not  been  traced. 


463  APPENDIX. 

siology.      Second    edition,    1842 ;    third    edition, 
185 1  ;  fourth  edition,  1854. 

1838.  12.  Hall,    Grainger,    Mayo,    on   the    Physiology   of  the 

Spinal  Marrow  {British  and  Foreign  Medical  Re- 
viezu,  April). 

13.  Physiology  an  Inductive  Science  {Ibid.,  April). 

14.  On  the  Differences  of  the  Laws  regulating  Vital  and 

Physical  Phenomena  (Prize  Essay,  Edinburgh  New 
Philosophical  Journal,  April ). 

15.  Macilwain's    Medicine    and    Surgery    {British   and 

Foreign  Medical  Review,  July). 

1839.  16.  Inaugural  Dissertation  on   the  Physiological   Infer- 

ences to  be  deduced  from  the  Structure  of  the 
Nervous  System  in  the  Invertebrate  Classes  of 
Animals  (Prize  Thesis). 
17.  Hunter,  Macartney,  Rasori,  Carswell,  on  Inflamma- 
tion {British  afid  Foreign  Medical  Review,  April  ; 
the  portion  relating  to  Hunter  is  marked,  "  Not  by 
W.  B.  C"). 
1839-47.  18-20.  Articles  on  '^Life,"  "Microscope,"  "Nutri- 
tion" (Todd's  CyclopcBdia  of  Anatomy  and  Phy- 
siology). 

1840.  21.  The  Claims  of  Bell,  Majendie,  Mayo,  etc.,  to  Dis- 

coveries   in    the    Nervous    System   {British    and 
Foreign  Medical  Review,  January). 

22.  Dubois  on   Medical  Study :   Preliminary  Education 

{Ibid.,  April). 

23.  Dubois  and  Jones  on  Medical  Study :  Principles  of 

Medical  Education  {Ibid.,  July). 

1841.  24.  Alison,     Bushnan,    Swainson,    on    Intellect    {Ibid.., 

January). 

25.  Graham,     Thomson,     Daniell,     Daubeny,     on    the 

recent   Progress   of    Chemical   Philosophy   {Ibid., 
January). 

26.  Valentin  on  the  Functions  of  Nerves  {Ibid.,  April). 

27.  Outline   of  a   Philosophical  History  of  the  Repro- 

ductive Function  in  Plants  and  Animals  {Edinburgh 
Monthly  Journal  of  Medical  Science^ 


APPENDIX.  469 

1841-44.     28-31.  Popular  Cyclopaedia  of  Natural  Science,  5  vols. 
The  Treatises  composing  this  series  were  after- 
wards reissued  separately : 

Mechanical     Philosophy,     Horology,     and    As- 
tronomy, 1857. 
Zoology,  2  vols,  (edited  by  W.  S.  Dallas,  F.L.S.), 

1857. 
Vegetable   Physiology    (edited   by  Edwin   Lan- 

kester,  M.D.,  F.R.S.),  1858. 
Animal  Physiology,  1859. 
1842-55.  32-36.  Principles  of  Human  Physiology.  Second 
edition,  1844;  third  edition,  1846;  fourth  edition, 
1852 ;  fifth  edition,  1855.  (The  sixth  edition 
appeared  in  1864,  under  the  editorship  of  Mr. 
Power;  the  ninth  in  1881). 

1842.  37.  Liebig's    Animal    Chemistry    {British    and   Foreign 

Medical  Reviezv,  October). 

1843.  38.   On  the  Origin  and  Functions  of  Cells,  being  Part  II. 

of  a  Report  on  the  Results  obtained  by  the  Use 
of  the  Microscope  in  the  Study  of  Anatomy  and 
Physiology  {Ibid.,  January). 

39.  On  the  Minute  Structure  of  the  Skeletons  or  Hard 

Parts  of  Invertebrata  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal 
Society,  January). 

40.  On   the    Microscopic   Structure    of   Shells    {British 

Association  Report,  August). 

41.  General   Results  of  Microscopic  Inquiries  into  the 

Minute  Structure  of  the  Skeletons  of  MoUusca, 
Crustacea,  and  Echinodermata  {Annals  and  Maga- 
zine of  Natural  History,  December). 

1844.  42.  Hall  and  Newport  on  the  Reflex  Function  of  Animals 

{British  and  Foreign  Medical  Review,  January). 

43.  Report    on    the    Microscopic    Structure    of   Shells 

{British  Association  Report,  September), 

44.  On  the  Structure  of  the  Animal  Basis  of  the  Common 

Egg-Shell,  and  of  the  Membrane  surrounding  the 
Albumen  {Transactions  of  the  Microscopical  Society, 
October  19). 


470 


APPENDIX. 


1845. 

45 

46- 

1846- 

-65. 

1846. 

68. 

1847. 

69. 

70. 

71. 

72. 

73- 

74- 

75> 

77- 

78. 

1847- 

49. 

1848. 

83- 

Vestiges  of  the  Natural  History  of  Creation  {British 
and  Foreign  Medical  Review,  January). 
-63.  On    the    Harmony    of    Science    and    ReHgion 

(eighteen  papers  in  the  Inquirer  newspaper,  March 

22  to  August  16). 
64-67.  Manual    of    Physiology.       Second    edition, 

1851  ;  third  edition,  1856  ;  fourth  edition,  1865. 
Noble  on  the  Brain  and  its  Physiology  {BritisJi  and 

Foreign  Medical  Revieiv,  October). 
Moreau's    Psychological    Studies    on    Hachish    and 

Mental  Derangement  {British  and  Foreign  Medico- 

Chirurgical  Review,  January). 
Matteucci   on   the   Physical  Phenomena   of  Living 

Beings  {Ibid.,  April). 
Professor  Owen  on  the  Comparative  Anatomy  and 

Physiology    of    the    Vertebrate    Animals    {Ibid., 

April). 
Report    on    the    Microscopic    Structure    of  Shells 

{British  Association  Report,  June). 
On    Piiotography   applied   to   Microscopic    Objects 

{Ibid.,  Part  H.,  June). 
Dr  Mayo  on  the  Relations  of  Insanity,  Crime,  and 

Punishment  {British  and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical 

Review,  July). 
76.  Dr.  Prichard  on  the  Physical  and  Natural  His- 
tory of  Mankind  {Ibid.,  July  and  October). 
Flourens,    Sharpey,    Tomes,    on   the    Formation    of 

Bone  {Ibid.,  October). 
An  Inquiry  into  the  Effects  of  Alcoholic  Drinks  on 

the  Human  System  in  Health  and  Disease  {Ibid.., 

October). 
79-82.  Articles    on    "Secretion,"  "Shell,"  "Sleep," 

"  Smell "    (Todd's     Cyclopczdia    of   Anatomy   and 

PJiysiology). 
Dalyell,  Sars,  Dujardin,  and  Van  Beneden,  on  the 

Development   and    Metamorphosis    of  Zoophytes 

{British  and  Foreign   Medico-Chirurgical  Review, 

January). 


APPENDIX, 


471 


1848.  84.  Dr.  Pereira's  Edition  of  Matteucci's  Lectures  {British 

and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical  Review,  January). 

85.  On  the  Christian  Name  {Inquirer,  June  20). 

86.  Taylor  and  Copland  on  Poisons  {British  and  Foreign 

Alcdico-Chirurgical  Review,  July). 
87..  Schleiden  and  Ralfs  on  Botany  {Ibid.,  October). 

88.  The  Position  and   Prospects   of  the    Medical    Pro- 

fession {Ibid.,  October). 

89.  Ethnology,    or   the    Science    of   Races    {Edinburgh 

Review,  October). 

90.  The  Objects  of  Medical   Study  and   the  Spirit  in 

which  they  should  be  pursued  (Introductory 
Lecture  delivered  at  the  Medical  School  attached 
to  the  London  Hospital,  October  2). 

1849.  91.  On     the     Microscopic     Structure    of    Nummulina, 

Orbitolites,  and  Orbitoides  {Joicrnal  of  the  Geo- 
logical Society,  May  2). 

92.  The  Physiology  of  Parturition  {British  and  Foreign 

Medico-Chirurgical  Review,  July), 

93.  Owen  and  Paget  on  Reproduction  and  Repair  {Ibid., 

October). 

94.  Physiological  Botany  {Ibid.,  October). 
1849-52.     95-97.  Articles   on   "Taste,"    "Touch,"   "Varieties 

of  Mankind"  (Todd's  Cyclopcedia  of  Anatomy 
and  Pliysiology). 

1850.  98.  The  Physiology  and  Diseases  of  the  Nervous  System 

{British   and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical  Review, 

January). 
99.  On  the  Mutual  Relations  of  the  Vital  and  Physical 

Forces  {Philosophical  Transactions,  June  20). 
100.  Evidence   and    Proof:    the   Trial   of    Dr.  Webster 

{British  and  Foreign  Medico-Chirurgical  Review, 

July). 
1850-51.     loi,  102.  The  Use  and  Abuse  of  Alcoholic  Liquors 

in    Health   and    Disease  (Prize    Essay).     Second 

edition,  185 1. 
1852.   103.  On  the  Influence  of  Suggestion  in  Modifying   and 

Directing  Muscular  Movement,  independently  of 


472  APPENDIX. 

Volition  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Institution, 
March  12). 

1853.  104,  On  the  Intimate  Structure  of  the  Shells  of  Brachio- 

poda  (contributed  to  the  General  Introduction 
to  Mr.  Thomas  Davidson's  British  Fossil  Bra- 
chiopodd). 

105.  The  Physiology  of  Temperance  and  Total  Absti- 

nence, being  an  Examination  of  the  Effects  of 
the  Excessive,  Moderate,  and  Occasional  Use 
of  Alcoholic  Liquors,  on  the  Healthy  Human 
System  (London  :  Henry  G.  Bohn,  pp.  184). 

106.  The  Moderate  Use  of  Intoxicating  Drinks,  physio- 

logically   considered     (London :     W.    Tweedie, 

pp.  15)- 

107.  The    Predisposing  Causes  of  Epidemics    {British 

and  Foreign  Medico-Chirtirgical Review,  January). 
loS.  Electro-Biology  and  Mesmerism  {Quarterly  Review, 
October). 

1854.  109.  On   a   Peculiar   Arrangement   of  the  Sanguiferous 

System  in  Terebratula  and  certain  other  Brachio- 

poda  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  April  5). 
no.  On   the  Development  of  the  Embryo  of  Purpura 

lapillus    {British    Association    Report,    Part   II., 

September). 
III.  On  the   Development  of  the  Embryo  of  Purpura 

lapillus  ( Transactions  of  the  Microscopical  Society, 

December  29). 

1855.  112.  The  Physiological  Errors  of  Moderation  (Scottish 

Temperance  League,  pp.  31). 
1855-60.     113-116.  Researches  on  the  Foraminifera. 

Part  I.  General  Introduction,  and  Monograph 
of  the  Genus  Orbitolites  {Philosophical  Trans- 
actions, 1856;  six  plates.  Abstract  in /V(?^^,?^- 
ings  of  the  Royal  Society,  June  20,  1855). 

Part  II.  Genera  Orbiculina,  Alveolina,  Cyclo- 
clypeus,  and  Heterostegina  (/c^/i/.,  1856;  four 
plates.  Abstract  in  Proceedings  of  the  Royal 
Society,  June  19). 


APPENDIX.  473 

Part  III.  Genera  Peneroplis,  Operculina,  and 
Amphistegina  {Philosophical  Transactions, 
1859;  six  plates.  Abstract  in  Proceedings  of 
the  Royal  Society,  ]\vn^  17,  185 8). 

Part  IV.  Genera  Polystomella,  Calcarina,  Tino- 
porus,  and  Carpenteria,  with  concluding  sum- 
mary {Ibid.,  i860;  six  plates.  Abstract  in 
Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  June  14). 

1856.  117.  Address   as   President   at  the  Annual  Meeting  of 

the  Microscopical  Society  {Transactions  of  the 
Microscopical  Society,  February  27). 
118.  On  the  Minute  Structure  of  certain  Brachiopod 
Shells  ;  and  on  Vegetable  Shell  -  Formation 
{Annals  and  Magazine  of  Natural  History, 
June). 
1856-81.  119-124.  The  Microscope.  Second  edition,  1857; 
third  edition,  1862;  fourth  edition,  1868;  fifth 
edition,  1874;  sixth  edition,  1881. 

[For  some  time,  probably  about  this  period, 
Dr.  Carpenter  contributed  to  the  Westminster 
Review ;  but  no  particulars  can  now  be  re- 
covered.] 

1857.  125.  The  Phasis  of  Force  {National  Review,  April). 

126.  On  the  Structure  of  the  Shell  of  Rhynconella  Gei- 

nitziana  {Annals  and  Magazine  of  Natural  History, 
March). 

127.  Remarks   on    MM.    Koren   and   Danielssen's    Re- 

searches on  the  Development  of  Purpura  lapillus 
{Ibid.,  July). 

128.  On  the  Development  of  Purpura  {Ibid.,  August). 

1858.  129.  On  the  Lowest  (Rhizopod)  Type  of  Animal  Life, 

considered  in  its  Relations  to  Physiology,  Zoology, 
and  Geology  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Institution, 
March  12). 

130.  Binocular  Vision  {Edinburgh  Review,  October). 

131.  Handbook  of  Psalmody  (for  the  use  of  the  Congre- 

gation worshipping  in  Rosslyn  Hill  Chapel, 
Hampstead). 


474  APPENDIX. 

1858.  132.  On  Tomopteris  onisciformis,  Eschscholtz  {Trans- 
actions of  the  Linnean  Society^  January  20). 

L860.  133.  Darwin  on  the  Origin  of  Species  {National  Review^ 
January). 

134.  Further   Researches    on   Tomopteris    onisciformis, 

Eschscholtz  {Transactions  of  the  Linnean  Society, 
January  19).  This  paper  was  written  in  con- 
junction with  the  late  Dr.  E.  Claparede,  of 
Geneva, 

135.  On  the  Relation  of  the  Vital  to  the  Physical  Forces 

{Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Institution,  February  24). 

136.  The   Theory   of  Development  in  Nature  {British 

and  Foreign  Medico- Chimrgical  Review,  April). 

1861.  137.  Alcohol:  What  becomes  of  it  in  the  Living  Body? 

( Westminster  Review,  January). 

138.  General  Results  of  the  Study  of  the  Typical  Forms 

of  Foraminifera,  in  their  Relation  to  the  Syste- 
matic Arrangement  of  that  Group,  and  to  the 
Fundamental  Principles  of  Natural  History  and 
Classification  {Natural  History  Review,  April). 

139.  On  the  Systematic  Arrangement  of  the  Rhizopoda 

{Ibid.,  October). 

1862.  140.  Binocular  Vision  and   the   Stereoscope  (a   lecture 

at  the  London  Institution,  March  19;  reprinted 
from  the  British  Journal  of  Photography). 
141.  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  the  Foraminifera  (folio, 
with  twenty-two  plates).  (Published  for  the  Ray 
Society.  In  this  work  Dr.  Carpenter  was  assisted 
by  Mr.  W.  R.  Parker  and  Mr.  T.  Rupert  Jones). 

1863.  142.  On  the  Fossil  Human  Jawbone  recently  discovered 

in  the  Gravel  near  Abbeville  (in  conjunction  with 
Mr.  George  Busk,  Dr.  Falconer,  and  Mr.  Prest- 
wich)  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  April  16, 
and  Natural  History  Review,  July,  1863). 

1864.  143,  144.  On  the  Application  of  the  Principle  of  "  Con- 

servation  of    Force"   to    Physiology   {Quarterly 
Journal  of  Science,  January  and  April). 
145.  Additional  Note  on  the  Structure  and  Affinities  of 


APPENDIX. 


475 


1864.  T46. 

1865.  147. 
14S, 


150- 

.   151- 

152- 

•     153- 

154- 

155- 


156. 

1868.     157. 
158, 


Eozoon  Canadense  {Quarterly  Journal  of  the  Geo- 
logical Society,  November  23 ;  with  two  plates). 

On  the  Structure  and  Affinities  of  Eozoon  Cana- 
dense  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  December 
15;  compare  Annals  and  Magazine  of  Natural 
History,  April,  1865), 

On  the  Structure,  Affinities,  and  Geological  Position 
of  Eozoon  Canadense  {Intellectual  Observer,  May). 

149.  Researches  on  the  Structure,  Physiology,  and 
Development  of  Antedon  (Comatula,  Lamk.) 
rosaceus  (abstract  in  Proceedings  of  the  Royal 
Society,  June  1 5 ;  Philosophical  Transactions, 
1866,  with  twelve  plates). 

On  the  Microscopic  Structure  of  the  Shell  of  Rhyn- 
conella  Geinitziana  {Annals  and  Magazine  of 
Natural  History,  November). 

Supplemental  Notes  on  the  Structure  and  Affinities 
of  Eozoon  Canadense  {Quarterly  Jownal  of  the 
Geological  Society,  January  10). 

On  Rhynconella  Geinitziana  {Annals  and  Maga- 
zine of  Natural  History,  April). 

On  the  Perforate  Structure  of  the  Shell  of  Spirifer 
cuspidatus  {Ibid.,  January). 

Further  Observations  on  the  Structure  and  Affini- 
ties of  Eozoon  Canadense  {Proceedings  of  the 
Royal  Society,  May  16). 

On  Nachet's  Stereo-Pseudoscopic  Binocular  Micro- 
scope, and  on  Nachet's  Stereoscopic  Magnifier; 
with  remarks  on  the  Angle  of  Aperture  best 
adapted  to  Stereoscopic  Vision  {Transactions  of 
the  Royal  Microscopical  Society,  June  12). 

On  the  Shell-Structure  of  Spirifer  cuspidatus,  and 
of  certain  allied  Spiriferidse  {Antials  and  Maga- 
zine of  Natural  History,  July). 

On  the  Unconscious  Activity  of  the  Brain  {Pro- 
ceedings of  the  Royal  Institution,  March  i). 

159.  The  Zoetrope  and  its  Antecedents  {The  Student, 
July  and  August). 


476  APPENDIX, 

1868.  i6o.  On   Spirifer  cuspidatus   {Annals  and  Magazine  of 

Natural  History,  August). 
i6i.  The  Anorthoscope  {The  Student,  September). 

162.  On   the    Structure    of  the   Shells    of   Brachiopoda 

{Annals  and  Magazi?ie  of  Natural  History,  Oc- 
tober). 

163.  Preliminary  Report  of  Dredging  Operations  in  Seas 

to  the  North  of  the  British  Islands,  carried  on  by 
Dr.  Carpenter  and  Dr.  Wyville  Thomson  (^Pro- 
ceedings of  the  Royal  Society,  October  22). 

1869.  164.  On  the  Temperature  and  Animal  Life  of  the  Deep 

Sea  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Institution,  April  9). 

165.  On  the  Rhizopodal  Fauna  of  the  Deep  Sea  {Pro- 

ceedings of  the  Royal  Society,  June  17). 

166.  Preliminary  Report   of  the   Scientific  Exploration 

of  the  Deep  Sea  in  H.M.  Surveying  Vessel  Por- 
cupine, during  the  summer  of  1869,  conducted 
by  Dr.  Carpenter,  V.P.R.S.,  Mr.  J.  Gwyn  Jeffreys, 
F.R.S.,  and  Professor  Wyville  Thomson,  LL.D., 
F.R.S.  {Ibid,  November  18). 

1870.  167.  On  the  Temperature  and  Animal  Life  of  the  Deep 

Sea  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Institution,  Feb- 
ruary 11). 

168.  On  the  Shell  Structure  of  Fusulina  {Monthly  Micro- 

scopical Journal,  April). 

169.  Description   of  some   Peculiar   Fish's   Ova    {Ibid., 

April). 

170.  On  the  Comparative  Steadiness  of  the   Ross  and 

the  Jackson  Microscope-Stands  {Ibid.,  April). 

171.  The  Contagious  Diseases  Act  {Inquirer,  April  2). 

172.  Descriptive   Catalogue  of  Objects   from   Deep-Sea 

Dredgings,  exhibited  at  the  Soiree  of  the  Royal 
Microscopical  Society,  King's  College,  April  20). 

173.  On   the   Reparation   of    the    Spines    of    Echinida 

{Monthly  Microscopical  Journal,  May). 

174.  175.  The   Deep  Sea  :    Its  Physical  and  Biological 

Conditions  {The  Student,  July  and  October). 
176.  The  Gulf  Stream  {Nature,  August  25). 


APPENDIX.  477 

1870.  177.  The    Geological    Bearings    of    Recent    Deep-Sea 

Explorations  (^Nature,  October  27). 
1 78.  Report  on  Deep-Sea  Researches  carried  on  during 
the  Months  of  July,  August,  and  September, 
1870,  in  H.M.  Surveying  Ship  Porcupine^  by 
W.  B.  Carpenter,  M.D.,  F.R.S.,  and  J.  Gwyn 
Jeffreys,  F.R.S.  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society, 
December  8). 

1871.  179,  180.  On    Eozoon   Canadense   {Nature,    January   5 

and  March  16). 

181.  On  the  Gibraltar   Current,  the   Gulf  Stream,  and 

the  General  Oceanic  Circulation  {Proceedings  of 
the  Geographical  Society,  January  9). 

182,  183.  The    Microscope   and    its    Revelations    (Two 

Lectures  at  the  Pharmaceutical  Society,  February 
1  and  March  i). 

184.  The  Temperature  and  Life  of  the  Deep  Sea  (Man- 

chester, Science  Lectures  for  the  People,  February  8). 

185.  Ocean    Currents:    Researches    in    the    Porcupine 

{Contemporary  Review,  March). 

186.  On  the  Latest  Scientific  Researches  in  the  Mediter- 

ranean   {Proceedings    of    the    Royal    Institution, 
March  10). 

187.  The  Physiology  of  the  Will  {Contemporary  Review, 

May). 

188.  On  the  Thermo-Dynamics  of  the  General  Oceanic 

Circulation  {British  Association  Report,  August). 

189.  Spiritualism    and    its    Recent    Converts   {Quarterly 

Retnew,  October). 

190.  Darwinism    in   England    (//  Barth,    Valetta,    De- 

cember). 

191.  The  Unconscious  Action  of  the  Brain  (Manchester, 

Science  Lectures,  December  i). 

192.  Epidemic  Delusions  {Ibid.,  December  8). 

1872.  193.  What  is   Common  Sense?    {Contemporary  Review, 

February). 
194.  Oceanic  Circulation  and  the  Gulf  Stream   {Edin- 
burgh Review^  April). 


473  APPENDIX. 

1872.  195.  On  the  Temperature  and  Movements  of  the  Deep 

Sea  {Popular  Science  Review,  April). 

196.  Report  on  Scientific  Researches  carried  on  during 

the  Months  of  August,  September,  and  October, 
187 1,  in  H.M.  Surveying  Ship  Shearwater  {Pro- 
ceedings of  the  Royal  Society,  June  13). 

197.  Presidential  Address   at   the   Brighton  Meeting  of 

the  British  Association  for  the  Advancement  of 
Science  {British  Association  Report,  August). 

198.  On    the    General    Oceanic    Thermal     Circulation 

{Ibid.). 

199.  On  the  Temperature  and  other  Physical  Conditions 

of  Inland  Seas,  in  their  Relation  to  Geological 
Inquiry  {Ibid.). 

200.  On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  {Good  Words,  October). 

201.  On  Mind  and  Will  in  Nature  {Contemporary  Review , 

October). 

1873.  202-204.  On  the  Hereditary  Transmission  of  Acquired 

.Psychical  Habits  {Ibid.,  January,  April,  May). 

205.  Ancient  and  Modern  Egypt ;  or,  the  Pyramids  and 

the  Suez  Canal  (Manchester,  Science  Lectures, 
February  19). 

206.  The  Voyage  of  H.M.S.  Challenger  {Journal  of  the 

Royal  United  Service  Institution,  April  18). 

207.  208.  The  Gulf  Stream  (Two  Papers,  Good  H'^ords, 

January  and  February). 
209-213.  Spectrum  Analysis  (Five  Papers,  Ibid.,  May  to 
August). 

214.  On  the  Physical  Condition  of  Inland  Seas  {Con- 

temporary Review,  August). 

215.  On    the    Undercurrents    of    the     Bosphorus    and 

Dardanelles  {British  Association  Report,  Sep- 
tember). 

216.  On  the  Physical  Geography  of  the  Mediterranean, 

considered  in  Relation  to  that  of  the  Black  Sea 
and  the  Caspian  {Ibid.). 

217.  On  the  Physical   Geography  of  the  Caspian  Sea, 

in  its  Relation  to  Geology  {Ibid.). 


APPENDIX.  479 

1873.  218.  Recent  Investigations  into   the  Functions  of  Dif- 

ferent Parts  of  the  Brain  (being  the  Substance  of 
two  Lectures  delivered  before  the  Sunday  Lecture 
Society,  November  2  and  9). 
219.  The  Psychology  of  Belief  (The  Roscoe  Lecture, 
delivered  before  the  Literary  and  Philosophical 
Society  of  Liverpool,  November  24 ;  see  also 
Cojtlemporary  Review,  December). 

1874.  220,  On  the  Temperature  of  the  Atlantic  (^Proceedings 

0/ the  Royal  Institution,  March  20). 

221.  Remarks   on    Professor   H.    J.    Carter's   Letter   to 

Professor  King  on  the  Structure  of  the  so-called 
Eozoon  Canadense  {Annals  and  Magazine  oj 
Natural  History,  April). 

222.  On  the  Physical  Cause  of  Ocean  Currents  {Philo- 

sophical Magazine,  May). 

223.  New  Observations  on  Eozoon  Canadense  {Annals 

and  Magazine  of  Natural  History,  June). 

224.  Further  Inquiries  on  Oceanic  Circulation  {Proceed- 

ings of  the  Geographical  Society,  June  i). 

225.  The  Depths  of  the  Sea  {British  Quarterly  Review, 

July). 

226.  Final   Note   on    Eozoon    Canadense    {Annals   and 

Magazine  of  Natural  History,  November). 

227.  The  Conditions  wliich  Determine  the  Presence  or 

Absence  of  Animal  Life  on  the  Deep  Sea  Bottom 
{Proceedings  of  the  Geologists'  Association,  De- 
cember 4). 

228.  Principles  of  Mental    Physiology  (Fourth  edition, 

with  new  Preface,  1S76). 

1875.  229,  230.  On    the    Doctrine    of    Human    Automatism 

{Contanporary  Ranew,  February  and  May). 

231.  Remarks    on    Professor    Wyville    Thomson's    Pre- 

liminary Notes  on  the  Nature  of  the  Sea-Bottom, 
procured  by  the  Soundings  of  H.M.S.  Challenger 
{Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  February  5). 

232.  Is    Man   an   Automaton?  (A  Lecture  at  the  City 

Hall,  Glasgow,  February  23). 


48o  APPENDIX. 

1875.  233.  The   Voyage    of   H.M.S.    Challettger    (continued) 

{Journal  of  the  Royal  United  Service  Institution, 
March  12). 

234.  L'Automatisme  Humain  {Revue  Scientifique,  May). 

235.  Les  Fonctions  du  Systfeme  Nerveux  chez  les  Inver- 

tebres  {Revue  Scientifique,  June). 

236.  Summary  of  Recent  Observations  on  Ocean  Tem- 

perature made  in  H.M.S.  Challenger  and  U.S.S. 
Tuscarora,  with  their  Bearing  on  the  Doctrine  of 
a  General  Oceanic  Circulation  sustained  by 
Difference  of  Temperature  {Proceedings  of  the 
Royal  Geographical  Society,  June). 

237.  On   the   Anatomy  of  Comatula,  an  addendum  to 

Professor  Semper's  Paper  {Annals  and  Magazine 
of  Natural  History,  September). 

238.  Ocean     Circulation    {Contemporary    Ranew,    Sep- 

tember). 

239.  Remarks   on    Mr.    Croll's    "Crucial    Test"   Argu- 

ment {Philosophical  Magazine,  November). 
240-242.  Articles  on  the  "Atlantic,"   "Baltic,"  "Black 
Sea"  {E7icyclopCEdia  Britantiica,  vol.  iii.). 

1876.  243.   The    Fallacies   of  Testimony   in    Relation   to  the 

Supernatural  {Contemporary  Review,  January). 
244,  245.  On  the  Structure,   Physiology,  and   Develop- 
ment of  Antedon   (Comatula,  Lamk. )  rosaceus 
{Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  January  20). 

246.  On   the  Genus    Astrorhiza  of  Sandahl   {Quarterly 

Journal  of  Microscopical  Science,  April). 

247.  Supplemental  Note  to  a  Paper   on   the   Structure, 

Physiology,  and  Development  of  Antedon  rosa- 
ceus {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  April  6). 

248.  Remarks  on  Mr.  Carter's    Paper   "  On   the   Poly- 

tremata,"  especially  with  reference  to  their  Mythi- 
cal Hybrid  Nature  {Aiinals  and  Magazine  of 
Natural  History,  May). 

249.  On  Oceanic  Circulation  {Atheficeum,  May  13). 

250.  New  Laurentian  Fossil  {Nature,  May  4,  25). 

251.  Notes  on  Otto  Hahn's  "Micro-Geological  Investi- 


APPENDIX. 


481 


1876.  252. 
253. 

1877.  254. 
255- 

256. 
257- 


1879. 

258. 

259- 

1880. 

260. 

261. 

1881. 


262. 

263. 
264. 

265. 


266. 


gation  of  Eozoon  Canadense  "  {^Annals  and  Maga- 
zine of  Natural  History,  June). 

Foraminifera  from  the  Cruise  of  the  Valorous 
{Proceeditigs  of  the  Royal  Society,  June  15). 

Report  on  the  Physical  Investigations  carried 
on  by  P.  Herbert  Carpenter,  B.A.,  in  H.M.S. 
Valorous,  during  her  return  Voyage  from  Disco 
Island  in  August,  1875  {Ibid.). 

The  Radiometer  and  its  Lessons  {Nineteenth 
Century,  April). 

On  the  Temperature  of  the  Deep  Sea  Bottom  and 
the  Conditions  by  which  it  is  determined  {Pro- 
ceedings of  the  Geographical  Society,  April). 

Sketch  of  the  Life  and  Work  of  Mary  Carpenter 
(Expanded  from  an  Obituary  Notice  in  the  Times, 
June). 

Mesmerism,  Spiritualism,  etc.,  historically  and 
scientifically  considered  (Two  Lectures  delivered 
at  the  London  Institution,  with  Preface  md 
Appendix). 

The  Eozoon  Canadense  {Nature,  July  31). 

Article  on  "Foraminifera"  {Encyclopcedia  Britan- 
nica,  vol.  ix.). 

The  Force  behind  Nature  {Modern  Revieiv, 
January). 

Land  and  Sea  considered  in  Relation  to  Geo- 
logical Time  {Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Institution, 
January  23). 

The  Deep  Sea  and  its  Contents  {Nineteenth  Century, 
April). 

Nature  and  Law  {Modern  Review,  October). 

Article  on  "Indian  Ocean"  {Encyclopcedia  Briian- 
nica,  vol.  xii.). 

The  Truth  about  Vaccination  {Times,  May  11; 
reprinted  with  enlargements  at  the  request  of 
the  Guardians  of  the  Bedford  Union). 

The  Morality  of  the  Medical  Profession  {Modern 
Review,  July). 


482  APPENDIX. 

1881.  267.  Disease  Germs  {Nineteenth  Century,  October). 

268,  269.  The  Relation  of  Food  to  Muscular  Work 
{^Knowledge,  November  4  and  11). 

1882.  270.  Predisposition  to  Disease  {Dictionary  of  Medicine^. 

271.  The    Ethics    of   Vivisection    {Fortnightly    Review^ 

February). 

272.  On  the  Conservation  of  Solar  Energy  {Knowledge, 

March  17), 

273.  Small-Pox    and    Vaccination    in    1871-81    {Nine- 

teenth Century,  April). 

274.  Sir   Charles    Bell  and   Physiological   Experimenta- 

tion {^Fortnightly  Review,  April). 

275.  Charles    Darwin :    his     Life    and    Work   {Modern 

Review,  July). 
"  276.  Science  and  Religion  :  the  Influence  of  Science  on 
the  Progress  of  Religious  Thought  (An  Address 
delivered  before  the  National  Conference  of  Uni- 
tarian and  other  Christian  Churches  at  Saratoga, 
U.S.,  September  19). 

277.  The  Doctrine  of  P^volution  in  its  Relations  to 
Theism  {Modern  Reviezv,  October). 

278-283.  Six  Lectures  on  Human  Automatism  (De- 
livered at  the  Lowell  Institute  in  October  and 
November,  and  intended  to  form  a  small  volume ; 
New  York  Medical  Journal,  xxxvii.,  and  Christian 
Reforjner,  London,  vols,  i.,  ii.,  iii.). 

284.  The  Physiology  of  Alcoholics  (Address  in  the 
Tremont  Temple,  Boston,  December  3). 

1883.  285.  Article    on    "Microscope"   {Encyclopcedia   JSritan 

nica,  vol.  xvi.). 

286.  Report   on  the  Genus  Orbitolites  {Zoology:    Chal- 

lenger Expedition,  vol.  vii.  part  xxi.,  eight 
plates). 

287.  Researches   on   the    Foraminifera.      Supplemental 

Memoir.  On  an  Abyssal  Type  of  the  Genus 
Orbitolites  ;  a  Study  in  the  Theory  of  Descent 
{Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Society,  June  14;  and 
Philosophical  Transactions,  1883,  pt.  ii.). 


APPENDIX.  483 

1883.  288.  On  the  Germ-Theory  of  Disease,  considered  from 

the  Natural  History  Point  of  View  {British 
Association  Report,  September). 

1884.  289.  The  Germ-Theory  of  Zymotic  Diseases  ;  considered 

from  the  Natural  History  Point  of  View  {Nine- 
teenth Century,  February). 

290.  On  the  Nervous  System  of  the  Crinoidea  {Proceed- 

ings of  the  Royal  Society,  May  29). 

291.  The  Argument  from  Design  in  the  Organic  World, 

reconsidered  in  its  Relation  to  the  Doctrines  of 
Evolution  and  Natural  Selection  {Modern  Rrview, 
October). 

292.  On  the  Structure  of  Orbitolites  (Inaugural  Address 

as  President  of  the  Quekett  Microscopical  Club, 
October  24)  {Journal  of  the  Quekett  Microscopical 
Club,  vol.  ii.  series  ii.). 

1885.  293,  President's  Address  at  the  Annual  General  Meeting 

of  the  Quekett  Microscopical  Club,  July  24 
{J did.). 


BY    DR.    CARPENTER. 

Principles  of  Mental  Physiology. 

WITH  THEIR  APPLICATION  TO  THE  TRAINING  AND  DIS- 
CIPLINE OF  THE  MIND,  AND  THE  STUDY  OF  ITS  MORBID 
CONDITIONS.       By  William   B.    Carpenter,    M.  D.,  LL.  D.,   etc. 

12mo.     Cloth,  $3.00. 

"  It  is  the  object  of  this  treatise  to  take  up  and  extend  the  inquiry  into  the 
action  of  body  upon  mind,  as  well  as  of  mind  upon  body,  on  the  basis  of  our 
existing  knowledge,  so  as  to  elucidate,  as  far  as  may  be  at  present  possible,  the 
working  of  that  physiological  mechanism  which  takes  a  most  important  share 
in  our  psychical  operations,  and  thus  to  distinguish  what  may  be  called  the 
automatic  activity  of  the  mind  from  that  which  is  under  volitional  direction  and 
control." 

Mesmerism,  Spiritualism,  etc.,  Histori- 
cally and  Scientifically  Considered. 

By  William  B.  Carpenter,  M.  D.,   LL.  D.,  etc.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.25. 

"The  reader  of  these  lectures  will  see  that  my  whole  aim  is  to  discover,  on 
the  generally  accepted  principles   of  testimony,  what  are  facts;    and  to  die 
criminate  between  facts  and  the  inferences  drawn  from  them.    I  have  no  other 
'  theory '  to  support  than  that  of  the  constancy  of  the  well-ascertained  laws  o( 
Nature."— jfroffi  the  Preface. 

Nature  and  Man: 

ESSAYS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  PHILOSOPHICAL.  By  the  late  Will- 
iam Benjamin  Carpenter,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  With  an  Introductory 
Memoir  by  J.  Estlin  Carpenter,  M.  A.,  and  a  Portrait.  12mo. 
Cloth. 

"  Mr.  Estlin  Carpenter's  memoir  of  his  father  is  just  what  such  a  memoir 
should  bo— a  simple  record  of  a  life,  uneventful  in  itself,  whose  interest  for  us 
lies  mainly  in  the  nature  of  the  intellectual  task,  so  early  undertaken,  so  strenu- 
ously carried  on,  so  amply  and  nobly  accomplisihed,  to  which  it  was  devoted."— 
Spectator. 

"  Few  works  could  be  mentioned  that  give  a  better  general  view  of  the  change 
that  has  been  wrou-'ht  in  men's  conceptions  of  life  and  nature.  For  this,  if  for 
nothing  else,  the  collection  would  be  valuable.  But  it  will  be  welcomed  also  as 
a  kind  of  bio'j;raphy  of  its  author,  for  the  essays  and  the  memoir  support  one 
another  and  are  mutually  illuminative."— Scoiswa/i. 


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\ 


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WORKS  OF  ALEXANDER   BAIN. 


The  Senses  and  th'?  Intellect.     By  At.exandke  Batn,  LT..  D..  Professor  of 

Losic  in  the  University  of  Aberdeen.     Third  edition.     8vo.     Cloth,  $.").(I0. 

The  Emotions  and  the  Will.  By  Alexander  Bain,  LL.  D.  Third  edition. 
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Mental  Science.  A  Compendium  of  Psycholofjy  and  the  ITistory  of  Philosophy. 
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DR.    CARPENTER'S   WORKS. 

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B.  Carpenter,  M.  D.,  LI>.  !>.,  etc.    12n.b.     Cloth,  $3.00. 

Nature  and  Man :  Essays  Scientific  and  Philosophical.  By  Wh.i.iam 
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WORKS   OF   CHARLES   DARWIN. 

Orig-in  of  Species  by  Means  of  Natural  Selecton,  or  the  Preservation 
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Emotional   Exnressions  of   Man  and   the   Lower   Animals.     By 

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Journal  of  Researches  into  the  Natur.al  History  and  Geology  of 
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Variation   of    Animals    and   Plants    under    Domestication.      By 

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Movements  and  Habits  of  Climbing-  Plants.  By  Chaeles  Daewin, 
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Various  Contrivances  by  which  Orchids  are  Fertilized  by  In- 
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Formation  of  Veg-etable  Mould  through  the  Action  of  Worms, 
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Life  and  Letters  of  Charles  Darwin.  Including?  a".  Autobiographic 
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Freedom  in  Science  and  Teaching:.  By  Eenst  Haeckel.  With  Prefatory 
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The  Evolution  of  Man.  A  Popular  Exposition  of  the  Principal  Points  of  IIu- 
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The  History  of  Creation ;  or,  the  Development  of  the  Karth  and  its  Inhabit- 
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By  EitNST  Haeckel,  Professor  in  the  University  of  Jena.  The  translation  re- 
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WORKS    BY    PROFESSOR   T.    H.    HUXLEY. 

Evidence  as  to  Man's  Place  in  Nature.    By  Prof.  T.  II.  Huxley,  F.E.S. 

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On  the  Origin  of  Species;  or.  The  ('auses  of  the  Phenomena  of  Organic 
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A  Manual  of  the  Anatomy  of  Invertebrated  Animals.  By  Prof. 
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An  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Zobiosry.  The  Cravfish.  By 
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WORKS  OF  PROFESSOR  JOSEPH  LE  CONTE. 

Elements  of  Geolog'V.  A  Text-Book  for  Colleges  and  for  the  General  Reader. 
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Prehistoric  Times,  as  illustrated  by  Ancient  Remains  and  the 
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By  Plot.  John  Tyndall.     With  35  Illustrations.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 


6  SCIENCE  AND  PIIILOSOPHF. 

Hours  of  Exercise  in  the  Alps,  By  Prof.  John  Tyndali.  With  Illnstra- 
tions.     ]_'mo.     Clolh,  :f2.00. 

Faraday  as  a  Discoverer.     A  Memoir.     By  Prof.  John  Tyndall.     12mo. 

Cloth,  $1.00. 

Fragments  of  Science  for  Unscientifi.c  People.  A  Series  of  Detached 
Kssays,  Lectures,  and  Reviews.  IJy  Prof,  ^ohn  Ttndall.  Kevised  and  en- 
larsed  edition.     12mo.     Clutli,  $2.50." 

Address  delivered  before  the  British  Association,  assembled  at 
Belfast.  By  Prof.  John  Ttndall.  E<-viscd,  with  Additions,  by  the  Author, 
since  the  Delivery.     12mo.     Paper,  50  cents. 

Essays  on  the  Floating;  Matter  of  the  Air,  in  Relation  to  Pu- 
trefaction and  Infection.  By  Prof.  John  Ttndall.  With  Iliubtrations. 
12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Research «?s  on  DiamagTietism  and  Magn^-Crystallic  Action.  In- 
cluding the  Question  of  Diamagnetic  Polarity.  By  Prof.  Joh.n  Ttndall.  "With 
10  Plates.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Xiouis  Pasteur  :  His  Life  and  Labors.  By  his  Son-in-Law.  Translated  from 
the  French  bv  Ladt  Claud  Hamilton.  With  an  Introduction  by  Prof.  John 
Ttndall.    12mo.    Cloth,  $1.25. 

WORKS   OF    PROFESSOR    R.    A.    PROCTOR. 

The  Moon:  Her  Motions,  Aspect.  Scenery,  and  Physical  Condition*,  with  Two 
Lunar  Photofrraphs,  and  many  Illustrations.  By  E.  A.  Pkoctok.  New  edition. 
12mo.    Cloth,  $3.50. 

The  Expanse  of  Heaven.  A  Series  of  E^sars  on  the  Wonders  of  the  Firma- 
ment.    By  R.  A.  Pkoctoe.    12mo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

Lii^ht  Science  for  Leisure  Hours.  F.'imiliar  Essays  on  Scientific  Subjects, 
Natural  Phenomena,  etc.     By  E.  A.  Proctok.     12rao.     Cloth,  $1.75. 

Other  "Worlds  than  Ours :  The  Plurality  of  Worlds,  studied  under  the  Lipht 
of  Recent  Scientific  Researches.  By  R.  A"  Peoctoe.  With  Illustrations,  some 
colored.     12mo.     Cloth,  |2.50. 

Our  Place  amonpr  Infinities.  A  Series  of  Essays  contrastinfr  our  Little 
Abode  in  Space  and  Time  with  the  Infinities  around  us.  To  which  are  added 
Essays  on  the  Jewish  Sabbath  and  Astrology.  By  R.  A.  Pkoctor.  12mo. 
Cloth,  $1.75. 

ASTRONOMY. 

Elements  of  Astronomy.  By  Robert  Stowetl  Ball.  LL.  D.,  F.R.  S., 
Andrews  Professor  of  Astronomy  in  the  ITniversitv  of  Dublin,  Royal  Astronomer 
of  Ireland.     With  Illustrations.  "  lOmo.     Cloth,  $2.25. 

Origin  of  the  Stars,  and  the  Causes  of  their  Motion  and  their 
Light.     By  Jacob  Ennis.     12mo.     Cloth.  $2.00. 

Elements  of  Astronomy ;  accompanied  with  numerous  IllnstraHnns.  a  Colored 
Representation  of  the  Solar,  Stell.ir,  and  Nebular  Spectra,  and  Arapo's  Celestial 
Cnarts  of  the  Northern  and  the  Southern  Hemisuheres.  By  J.  Nor.man  Lock- 
TER,  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Astronomical  Society.  Editor  of  "Nature,"  etc.  Ameri- 
can edition,  revised  and  specially  adapted  to  the  Schools  of  the  United  States. 
12rao.    Cloth,  $1.50. 

Astronomy  with  an  Opera-Glass.  A  Popular  Introduction  to  the  Study 
of  the  Starry  Heavens  with  the  Simplest  of  Optical  Instruments.  AVith  Ma])S 
and  Directions  to  facilitate  the  Recognition  of  the  Constellations  and  the  Principal 
Stars  visible  to  the  Naked  Eye.     By  Gakrett  P.  Skrviss.    Svo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 

Outlines  of  Astronomy.  By  Sir  J.  J.  W.  Hekschel.  With  Plates  and 
Woodcuts.     Eleventh  edition.     Svo.    Cloth,  $4.00. 


SCIEy^CE  AND  PHILOSOPHY.  Y 

Studies  in  Spectrum  Analysis.  By  J.  Norman  LorKVER,  F.  R.  8.,  Corre- 
siiondent  of  tbt;  Institute  of  Fraaoe,  otc.  With  UU  Illustrations.  12mo.  Cloth, 
$:.'.uU. 

Astronomy  by  Observation.    By  Eliza  A.  Bowen-.    4to.    Cloth,  $1.20. 

Astronomy  and  Qeolog-y  Compared.     By  Lord  Okmatuwaite.     iSmo. 

Tinted  fxiper.     Cloth,  $1.0J. 

Spectrum  Analysis,  in  its  ApT)lication  to  Terrestrial  Substances, 
and    ttie    Physical    Constitution    of    the    Heavenly    Bodies. 

Fatiiiliarly  explaiiie  1  by  Dr  A.  Schkli.en,  Director  der  Realschiile  I.  O.  Cologne. 
Translated  from  the  second  enlartred  and  revised  German  edition  by  Jane  and 
Caroline  LxssKH,.  Edited,  with  Notes,  by  William  Kuogins,  LL.  D.  With 
numerous  Wooilcuts,  Colored  Plates,  and  Portraits;  also.  Angstrom's  and 
Kirohhoff's  Maps.    8vo.    Cloth,  $6.00. 

The  Sun.  By  C.  A.  Yoitno,  Ph.  I).,  LL.  D.,  Professor  of  Astronomy  in  the  Col- 
lege of  New  Jersey.  With  numerous  Illustrations.  Third  edition.  With  Sup- 
plementaiy  Note.  "  \imo.    Cloth,  $'.^.00. 

CHEMISTRY 

The  New  Chemistry.  By  Prof.  J.  P.  Cooke.  New,  revised,  and  enlarged  edi- 
tion.    r2mo.     Clolh,  $2.00. 

Class-Book  of  Chemistry.  By  Prof.  E.  L.  Yottmans.  With  Illustrations. 
12mo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 

Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Org'anic  Chemistry.  By  Prof.  H.  E. 
Akmstro.ng,  Ph.  D.,  F.  C.  S.     r2m()      Cloth,  ,11.50. 

Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Inorgranic  Chemistry.  By  W.  Allen 
Miller.     W^ith  "1  Figures  on  Wood.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Chemical  Exercises  in  Qualitative  Analysis,  for  Ordinary  Schools. 
By  GEOXftK  W.  Rains,  M.  D.,  Professor  of  Chemistry  and  Pharmacy  In  the  Med- 
ical Department  of  the  University  of  Georgia.     Cloth,  fle.vible,  50  cents. 

Adolph  Strecker's  Short  Text-Book  of  Oreranic  Chemistry.     By 

Dr.  ,1.  WisLK'Extrs.  Tran.<lated  and  edited,  with  K\tensive  Additions,  by  W.  H. 
HoDGKiNsoN,  Ph.  D.,  and  A.  J.  Greenaway,  F.  I.  C.    Svo.     Clolh,  $5.0o! 

Treatise    on    Chemistry.     By  H.  E.  Eoscok,  F.  R.  8.,  and  G.  Sciiorlemmer, 

F.  K.  8.,  Professors  of  Chemistry  in  the  Victoria  University,  Owens  College, 
Manchester. 

Inorganic  Chemistry.    Vols.  I  and  II. 

Vol.  I.  Non-Metallic  Elements.     Svo.     $5.00. 
Vol.  11.     Part  I.  Metals.     Svo.     $3.00. 
Vol.  II.     Part  II.  Metals.    Svo.     $3.00. 

Organic  Chemistry.    Vol.  III.    Part  I.    The  Chemistry  of  the  Hydro- 
carbons and  their  Derivatives,  or  Organic  Chemistry.     8vo.     $5.00. 

Vol.  in.     Part  II.     The  same.     Svo.     $5.(10. 
Vol.  III.     Part  11  r.     The  sime.     Svo.     $S.O(t. 
Vol.  III.     Part  IV.    The  same.     Svo.     $8.00. 

The  Chemistry  of  Cookery.      By  W.  Mattieu  Williams.     12mo.     Cloth, 

$1..")0. 

Qualitative  Chemical  Analysis  and  Laboratory  Practice.  By 
Prot.  T.  E.  TiionpK,  Ph.  D..  and  .M.  .M.  P.  Ml-ik.     12iiio.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Chemical  Philosophy.    By  W.  A.  Til- 

D]-,N.  F.  C.  S.     121110.     Cloth,  $1. .")!). 

Chemistry  of  Lig-ht  and  Photography.  By  Dr.'HEKMANN  Vogel.  With 
100  Illustrations.    Pinio.    Cloth,  $2.00. 


8  SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY. 

The  Chemistry  of  Common  Life.  By  the  late  Prof.  J^mes  F.  "W.  John- 
ston. A  uew  edition,  r-ivised  and  enlarge<l.  and  brou-'ht  down  to  the  Present 
Ti:iie,  by  Arthur  IlfiRBERT  Church,  M.  A.,  Oxon  ,  author  of  '■  Food  :  its  Sources, 
Constituents,  and  Uses."  Illustrated  with  Maps  and  numerous  Engravings  on 
Wood,     lu  one  volume.     12mo.     Cloth,  $2.03. 

A  Hand-Book  of  Cliemioal  Technolosry.  By  Efdolph  Wagner.  Ph.  D., 
Professor  of  ^Jhemical  lechaolofry  at  the  ITniversity  of  Wurtzburs.  Translated 
and  edited,  from  the  eig'hth  German  edition,  with  Extensive  Additions,  by  VV. 
Ceookes,  p.  E.  S.    With  336  Illustrations.    8vo.     Cloth,  $5.00. 

GEOLOGY.     (See  also  Le  Conte's  Works.) 

Applied  Geology.  A  Treatise  on  the  Industrial  Kelations  of  Geolofrical  Struct- 
ure; and  on  the  Nature.  Occurrence,  and  L'ses  of  Substaui'es  derived  from  Geo- 
logical Sources.  By  SA.MrEi,  G.  Williams,  Professor  of  General  and  Economic 
Geology  in  Cornell  University.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.40. 

Principles  of  Geolo°ry ;  or.  The  Modern  Changes  of  the  Earth  and  its  Inhabit- 
ants, considered  as  illustrative  of  Geology.  By  Sir  I^harlf.s  Ltkll,  Bart.  Illus- 
trated with  Maps,  Plates,  and  Woodcuts.     Eevised  edition.    2  vols.,  royal  8vo. 

Cloth,  $8.00. 

Town  Geologry.  Bv  the  Eev.  Charles  Kingslet,  F.  L.  S.,  F.  G.  S.,  Canon  of 
Chester     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Coal  ResioTJS  of  America ;  their  Topography,  Geology,  and  Development. 
By  James  Macfarlane,  A  M.  With  a  Colored  Geological  .Map  of  Pennsylvania, 
a  Railroad  .Map  of  all  the  Coal  Eegions,  '24  other  Maps,  showing  the  Counties  in 
the  States  containing  Coal,  ^b  full-page  and  20  smaller  Illustrations.  Svo.  TOO 
pages.     Cliith,  $5.00;  sheep,  $5.00. 

An  American  Geological  Railway  Gu'de,  giving  the  Geological  Forma- 
tion at  Every  Eailway  ^tation,  with  Notes  on  Intere.sting  Places  on  the  Eoutes, 
and  a  Description  of  each  of  the  Formations.  By  James  Macfarlane,  A.  M. 
Svo.     Flexible  cloth,  $1.50. 

Natural  "Resources  of  the  TJnited  States.  By  Jacob  Haeets  Patton, 
M.  A.,  Ph.D.    Svo.     Clnth,  $3.00. 

The  Study  of  Rocks.  An  Elementary  Text-Book  in  Petrology.  With  Ilhis- 
trations.    By  Frank  Eutlet,  of  the  English  Geological  Survey.    16mo.    Cloth, 

$1.T5. 

BOTANY,    ETC.     (See  also  Darwin's  Works.) 

Pung-i;  their  Natures  and  Uses.  By  M.  C.  Cooke.  Edited  by  the  Eev.  M.  J. 
Bkukelev.    12mo.    Cloth,  $1.50. 

Naturalist's  Ramljles  about  Eome.      By  Dr.  Charles  C.  Abbott.    New 

edition,  revised.     12rao.     Cloth,  ,$1.50. 

Orig'in  of  Cultivated  Plants.  By  Alphonse  de  Candolle.  12mo.  Cloth, 
$2  01). 

The  Origin  of  Floral  Structures  throug-h  Insects  and  other 
As'ancies.  By  the  Eev.  George  Henslow,  Professor  of  Botany,  Queen's 
College.  International  Scientific  Series.  With  numerous  Illustrations.  12mo. 
Cloth,  $1.75, 

Tha  Geolo^rical  History  of  Plants.  By  Sir  J,  William  Dawson,  F,  E.  S. 
Illustrated.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.75. 

Primary  Class-Book  of  Botany,  d^^sigrned  for  Common  Schools 
and  Pamiliss  ;  containins  the  Elements  of  Vegetable  Structure  and  Physi- 
ology.   By  FE.iNCES  H.  Green.     Illustrated.    4to.     Boards,  $1,10. 

Flowers  and  their  Pedig-rees.  By  Grant  Allen,  Illustrated,  12mo. 
Cloth,  $1.50. 


SCIENCE  AND    PHILOSOPHY.  9 

Analytical  Class-Book  of  Botany,  desierned  for  Academies  and 
Private  Students.  In  Two  Pares.  Part  I.  Eloments  of  Vefreiabk- Structure 
anil  Physiolofry.  By  Feaniki  H.  Green.  Illustrated.  Part  II.  Syoteniatic 
Botany  :  Iilustnited  bv  a  Compendious  Fl  >ra  of  the  Morthern  Statea.  By  Joseph 
W.  Co.NGDON.     4to.      Cloth,  $1.70. 

First  Book  of  Botany.  Designed  to  cultivate  the  Observing  Power  of  Chil- 
dren. By  Eliza  A.  YotTMANS.  With  numerous  Illustrations.  12iiio.  Half 
bound,  80  cents. 

Second  Book  of  Botany.    By  Euza  A.  Tocmans.    12mo.    Cloth,  $1.30. 

Descriptive  Botany.  A  Practical  Guide  to  the  Classification  of  Plants,  with  a 
Popular  Flora.     By  Kliza  A.  Y  odmans.     12iiio.    Cloth,  $1,40. 

Physiolog'ical  Botany.  By  Robert  Bentley.  F.  L.  S.,  Profe.'spor  of  Botany  in 
Kinsr's  Co!lt'(?e,  Ivmdon.  Prepared  as  a  Sequel  to  "  Desci-iptive  Botany,"  by  Eliza 
A.  YouMANs.     12ino.     Cloth,  ^1.40. 

WORKS  ON    ELECTRICITY. 

Electricity  and  Magnetism.    By  Fleeming  Jenkin-.    l2mo.    Cloth,  $l.ro. 

Tlie  Electric  Li^ht :  Its  History,  Production,  and  Applications.  By  Km  Ai,- 
GiiAVE  and  .r.  BorLAKD.  Tmnslated  from  the  French  bv  T.  G'Conok  Sloane. 
Edited,  with  Notes  and  Additions,  by  C.  M.  Lungken.  With  250  Illustrations. 
8vo.     c;loth,  *5.00. 

A  Practical  Treatise  on  Electric  Lighting:.  Bv  J.  E.  H.  Gordon,  Mem- 
ber of  the  I'ans  (  oni.'r.-ss  of  Electricians.  With  23  Full-page  Plates,  and  numer- 
ous Illustrations  in  the  Text.     8vo.     Cloth,  $4.50. 

Physical  Treatise  on  Electricity  and  Magnetism.  Bv  J.  E.  H.  Gor- 
don, B.  A  ,  Ganib  .  Member  ot  the  Intrniationnl  Congress  of  Electricians,  Paris, 
1S8I;  Man^iger  of  the  Electric  Department  of  the  Telegraph  Construction  and 
Maintenanse  Coinoany.  Second  edition,  revised,  rearranged,  and  enlarged.  With 
about  312  Full-page  and  other  Illustrations.     2  vols.,  8vo.     Cloth,  $10.00. 

The  Modern   Applications  of  Electricity.     Bv  E.  Hospitalier.    New 

edition,  revised,  with  many  Additions.     Translated  by  Jui,iu8  Maier,  Ph.D. 

Vol.  I.  Et.eotrio  Generators,  Electric  Light. 

Vol.  ir.  TELRpnoNE:  Various  Applications,  Electrical  Transmission  of  Energy. 
2  vols.,  8vo.    With  numerous  Illustrations.     $8.00. 

Telesrraphv.  Bv  W.  II.  Peeeob,  C.  E.,  and  J.  Siyewright,  M.  A.  Illustrated. 
12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Electricity  and  the  Electric  Teleg-raph.  By  George  B.  Prescott. 
Si.'cth  edition,  revised  and  enlarged.  With  C70  Illustrations.  2  vols.,  Svo.  Cloth, 
$5.0(1.     Each  volume  sold  separately. 

Bell's  Electric  Speaking  TeleDhone:  Its  Invention.  Construction,  Applica- 
tion. Modification,  .and  History.  By  Geohgb  B.  Pkescott.  With  330  Illustra- 
tions.    Svo.     Cloth,  $4.00. 

Dynamo  Electricity:  Its  Generation,  Application,  Transmission,  Storage,  and 
Mea-surement.  By  George  B.  Pkescott.  With  545  Illustrations.  8vo.  Cloth, 
$5.00. 

A  Popular  Exposition  of  Electric'ty,  with  Sketches  of  some  of  Its  Dis- 
coverers.    By  .Martin  S.  Buen.nan.     lOmo.     Cloth,  75  cents. 

CLIMATE,    ETC. 

Climate  and  Time  in  their  Geoloei?al  Relations:  A  Theorv  of  Secular 
Ch.anges  of  the  Earth's  Climate.  Bv  .Tames  Croll,  of  II.  M.  Geological  Survey 
of  Scotland.    With  Maps  and  Illustrations.    12mo.    Cloth.  $2.50. 


10  SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY. 

discussions  on  Climate  and  CosmologTr.  By  James  Ceoll,  LL.  D., 
F.  K.S.     With  Chart.     12ino.     Cloth,  $'2.U0. 

Great  Ice  Ag-e,  and  its  Relation  to  the  Antiquity  of  Man.    By 

James  Geikib.     With  Maps  and  Illustrations.     12mo.     Cloth,  $2.50. 

Weather.  A  Popular  Exposition  of  the  Nature  of  Weather-Changes  from  Bay  to 
Day.  By  the  Hon.  Kalph  Abkkcrombt,  Fellow  of  the  lioyal  Meteorological 
Society,  London.     With  numerous  Diagrams.     ]2mo.     Cloth,  ^1.75. 

Earthquakes  and  other  Earth  Movements.  By  John  Milne,  Professor 
in  the  Imperial  College  of  Engiiieering,  Tokio,  Japan.  With  38  Illustrations. 
12mo.    Cloth,  $1.75. 

"Volcanoes:  What  they  Are  and  what  they  Teach.  By  J.  W.  Jtrrn,  Professor  of 
Geology  in  the  Koyal  School  of  Mines  ^London).  With  96  Illustrations,  limo. 
Cloth,  $2.U0. 

Outlines  of  a  Mechanical  Theory  of  Storms.  Containing  the  True 
Law  of  Lunar  Influence,  with  Practical  Instructions  to  the  Navigator  to  enable 
him  approximately  to  calculate  the  ('oming  Chantres  of  the  Wind  and  Weather 
for  any  Given  Day,  and  for  any  Part  of  the  Ocean.  By  S.  Bassnett.  12mo. 
Cloth,  $2.00. 

ANIMAL   LIFE.     (See  also  Works  of  Huxley,   Lubbock,  and   Nicholson.) 

The  Mammalia  in  their  Relation  to  Primeval  Times.  By  O.^oak 
Scu.MiDT,  Professor  in  the  University  of  Strasburg.  International  Scientitic 
Series.     With  51  Woodcuts.     12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Anthropoid  Apes.  By  Robert  Haet.mann,  Professor  in  the  University  of 
Berlin.  International  Scientitic  Series.  With  63  Illustrations.  12mo.  Cloth, 
$1.75. 

The  Comparative  Anatomy  of  the  Domesticated  Animals.    By  A. 

Ch.\uveau.  Professor  at  the  Lyons  Veterinary  School.  New  edition,  revised  and 
enlarged,  with  the  Co-operatioh  of  3.  Akloing,  late  Principal  of  Anatomy  at  the 
Lyons  Veterinary  School.  Translated  and  edited  by  Jajsies  Fleming.  With  460 
Illustrations.    Svo.    Cloth,  $6.00. 

Elements  of  Zoolog-v.  By  C.  F.  Holder.  Fellow  of  the  New  York  Academy 
of  Science,  Corresponding  Member  Linnsean  Society,  etc..  and  J  B.  Holdef.  M.  D., 
Curator  of  Zoology  of  American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  Central  Park, 
New  York.     12mo,  395  pages.     Cloth,  $1.40. 

Evening's  at  the  Microscope  ;  or.  Researches  among  the  Minuter  Organs  and 
Forms  of  Animal  Life.    By  P.  H.  Gosse.     Ihick  12mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Jelly-Fish,  Star- Fish,  and  Sea-Urchins.  Being  a  Research  on  Primitive 
Nervous  Systems.     By  G.  J.  Romanes.     ]2mo.     Cloth,  $1.75. 

Animal  Intellig-enca.     By  G.  J.  Romanes.    12mo.    Cloth,  $1.75. 

Mental  Evolution  in  Animals.     By  G.  J.  Romanes.    With  a  Posthumous 

Essay  on  Instinct,  by  Charles  Dawwin.     12mo.     Cloth,  |2  CO. 

The  Geog-raphical  and  Geological  DistribuTion  of  Animals.     By 

Angblo  Hkilpein.  Professor  of  Invertebrate  Paleontology  at  the  Academy  of 
Natural  Sciences  of  Philadelphia,  etc.     12mo.     Cloth,  $2.t,0. 

Mind  in  the  Lower  Animals  in  Health  and  Disease.  By  W.  Laudek 
Lindsay,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  8.  E.,  etc.     2  vols.,  8vo.     Cloth,  $4.00. 

Animal  Life,  as  affected  by  the  Natural  Conf^itions  of  Existence. 

By  Karl  Semper,  Professor  of  the  University  at  Wdrzburg.  With  Maps  and 
100  Woodcuts.     12mo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

Mind  in  Nature;  or.  The  Origin  of  Life,  and  the  Mode  of  Development  of 
Animals.  By  Henry  .Tameb  Clark,  A.  B.,  B.  S..  Adjunct  Professor  of  Zoology 
in  Harvard  University,  etc.     With  over  200  lUustnations.    Svo.    Cloth,  $8.50. 


SCIEyCE  AND  PniLOSOPllY.  11 

Animal  Parasites  and  Messmates.     By  P.  J,  Van  Beneden.    With  83 

Illustrations.     I'Jino.     Clotli.  $1.50. 

Animal  Mschanicm.  A  Treatise  on  Terrestrial  and  Aerial  Locomotion.  By  E. 
J.  Mabey.     With  117  Illustrations.     12mo.     Cloth,  §1.75. 

Animal  Liocomotion ;  or.  Walkinjj,  Swimming,  and  Flying,  with  a  Dissertation 
on  Aeronautics.   By  .T.  ISell  PETTtoREw,  M.  D.    Illustrated.    I'inio.    Clolh,  .$1.75. 

Short  Hi3tory  of  W^atural  Science  and  tlie  Progress  of  Discovery, 

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12  SCIEXOE  AND  PHILOSOPHY. 

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SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPEY.  13 

A  History  of  Philosophy  in  Epitome.  By  Albfrt  Srn-WEOi.ER.  Trnus- 
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14  SCIENCE  ANB  TEILOSOPEY. 

Elementary  Treatise  on  Natural  Philosophy.    By  A.  Privat  Descha- 

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the  Academy  of  P.iris.  Translated  and  edited,  with  Extensive  Moditications,  by 
J.  D.  Everett.  Professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  in  the  Queen's  CoUejre,  Belfast. 
Oompleti-  in  Four  Parts.  Illustrated  by  7>8  Engravings  on  Wood,  and  Three 
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SCIENCE  AND  PniLOSOPHY.  16 

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16  SCIENCE  AND  PHILOSOPHY. 

Theory  of    Bridg-e-Construction.     With  Practical  llluetrations.     By  H. 

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Illustrated  Encyclopsedic  Medical  Dictionary.  Being  a  Dictionary  of 
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Treatise  on  the  Prac«-ice  of  Medicine.  For  the  Use  of  Students  and  Prac- 
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Elements  of  Modern  Medic'ne,  including  Principles  of  Pathology  and  Thera- 
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First  Lines  of  Therapeutics,  as  based  on  the  Modes  and  the  Processes  of 
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C3r3bi'al  Dynamics.  By  J.  Le^.N-vrh  Counino,  M  1).,  ibrmcrly  PlivMeiun 
to  the  Iludson  liiver  State  Hospital  lor  the  Insane.     Crown  Svo.     Cloth,  $2.(0. 

A  Manual  of  Midwifery.  Including  the  Pathology  of  Pregnancy  and  the 
Puerperal  State.  By  Dr.  Cakt,  SciiuoEhEB.  Professor  of  Midwifery  and  Director 
of  the  Lying-in  Institulii)n  in  the  University  of  Krlungen.  Translated  from  the 
third  Germ  in  edition  by  Chabi-es  H.  Cakter,  B.  A,,  M.  D..  B.  S..  London,  Mem- 
ber of  the  Koyal  College  of  Physicians,  London,  and  Physician  Accoucheur  to  St. 
George's.  Hanover  Square,  Dispensary.  "With  20  Engravings  on  Wood.  Svo. 
Cloih,  $3.50;  sheep,  $4.50. 

Obstetric  Clinic.  A  Practical  Contribution  to  the  Study  of  Obstetrics,  and  the 
Diseases  of  Women  and  Children.  By  thi-  Lite  Geoegk  T.  KLLroT.  M.  D..  late 
Professor  of  Obstetrics  and  Diseases  of  AVonien  and  Children  in  the  Bcllcvue 
Hospital  Medical  College.     Svo.     Cloth,  $4.50. 

Fractical  Manual  of  Diseases  of  Women  and  Uterine  Therapeu- 
tics, for  Students  and  Practitioners.  By  H.  MACxAiiiiiT'N  Jones. 
M.  I),,  Examiner  in  Obstetiics,  Royal  University  of  Ireland;  Fellow  of  the  Acad- 
emy of  .Melicine  in  Ireland;  and  of  the  Obstetrical  Society  of  London.  With 
13S  Illustrations.     12mo.     Cloth,  $3.U0. 

The  Pu'^rpenl  Diseases.  Clinical  Lectures  delivered  at  Bcllevue  TTospital. 
Bv  FosDYOO  BvKKKK.  Si.  I)  .  Clinical  Professor  of  Midwitery  and  tlie  Diseases  of 
Women  in  the  Bellevuo  Ilosjiital  Medical  College;  Obstetric  Physician  to  Belle- 
vue  Hospital;  lIon)rary  Fellow  cf  the  Obstetrical  Societies  of  London  and  Kdin- 
burgh.    Fourth  editi.jn.     Svo.     Cloth,  $5.00;  sheep,  $0.00. 

The  Science  and  Art  of  Midwifery.  By  Wh.i.tam  T.  Lusk,  M.  D..  Pro- 
fessor of  Obst  'tries  and  Diseases  of  Women  and  Children  in  the  Bellevue  Hos- 
pital Medical  College,  Obstetric  Surgeon  to  the  Maternity  and  Emergency  Hospi- 
tals, an  1  Gynajcologist  to  the  Bellevue  Ilo-pital.  With  220  Illustrations.  Kew 
edition,  revised  and  enlarged.     Svo.     Cloth,  $5.00;  sheep,  $0.00. 

A  Pra^itica,!  Treatise  on  Genito- Urinary  Diseases,  including- 
Syphilis.  By  E.  L.  Keyes,  M.  I).,  Piofessor  of  Genito  Urinary  Surgery, 
Syphilciloiy,  and  Dermatolosy,  in  Bellevue  Hospital  Medical  College.  .\  revision 
of  a  Treatise  bea'  ing  the  same  title,  by  Van  Buren  and  Keycs.  Second  edition, 
rewritten  and  enlarged.  With  114  Engravings.  Svo,  7U4  pages.  Cloth,  $5.00; 
sheep,  $0.00. 

Diseases  of  the  Ovaries :  Their  Diagnosis  and  Treatment.  By  T.  Spescee 
Wells,  Fellow  and  Member  of  Council  of  the  Eoyal  College  of  Surgeons  of  Eng- 
land, etc.     Illustrated.     Cloth,  $4.50. 

Pyuria;  or,  Pus  in  the  Urine,  and  its  Treatment:  Comprising  the 
Diagnosis  and  Treatment  of  Acute  anil  Chronic  Uiethriti<,  Prostatitis,  ('\stitis, 
anil  Pyelitis,  with  espscial  reference  to  their  Local  Treatment,  By  l.'r.  RoBEHt 
Ui.TXMVNv,  Professor  of  Genito-Urinary  Diseases  in  the  Vienna  Polikllnik. 
Translated,  by  permission,  by  Dr.  AV alter  B.  Platt,  F.  E.  C.  S.  (Eug.),  Balti- 
more.    12mo.    Cloth,  $1.00. 

Syvihilis  and  Marriag-e.  Lectures  delivered  at  the  St  Louis  Hospit.il,  Paris. 
Bv  Ai.ERKn  l-'oue.MiER.  Professeur  a  la  Facultii  de  Medecine  do  Paris;  Medecin  de 
I'Hopitil  S.aint-Louis;  Membre  de  rAcademie  de  Medecine.  Translated  by  P. 
Albert  Morrow,  M.  D  .  Physician  to  the  Skin  and  Venereal  Deiiartmeiit,  New 
York  I)isi)ensary;  Member  New  York  Dermatological  Society;  Member  New 
York  Academy  of  Medicine.    Svo.     Cloth,  $2. t>0;  sheep,  $3.00. 


22  IMPORTANT  MEDICAL  BOOKS. 

'^^%J^onic  Treatment  of  Syphilis.  By  E.  L.  Ketes,  A.  M.,  M.  D.,  Adinnct 
Trofess!  r  ot  Surgery  and  Protessor  of  Dermatology  in  the  Bellevue  Hosnilal 
Medical  College,  etc.     Svo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

The  Pathology  and  Treatment  of  Syphilis  and  Allied  Venereal 

Ijiseases.       By    IIkrmann   von   Zkisst.,   M.l).      Secoi  d    edition,  revised   by 
Maximilian  von  Zeissl.  M.  I).     Translated,  with  ISotes,  bv  II.  IUphael.  M  D 
8vo.     Cloth,  $4.00;  sheep,  vo.OO.  >      ■     • 

A  Practical  Treatise  on  Tumors  of  the  Mammary  Gland:  em- 
bracing iheir  Histology,  Pathology.  Diagnosis,  and  Treatment.  By  Samuel  W. 
Gross,  A.  M.,  M.  1).,  Surgeon  to,  and  Lecturer  on  Clinical  Surgery  in.  the  Jefferson 
Medical  College  Hospital  and  the  Philadelphia  Hospital,  etc.  In  one  handsome 
Svo  volume.     With  '29  Illustrations.     Cloth,  .t2.50. 

Analysis  of  the  Urine.  With  Special  Reference  to  the  Diseases  of  the  Genito- 
Lrimiry  Organs.  By  M.  B.  Hoffman,  Professor  in  the  University  of  Gratz  and 
K  Ultzmann,  Docent  in  the  University  of  Vienna.  Translated  from  the  Ger'u.an 
edition  under  the  special  supervision  of  Dr.  Ultzmann.  By  T.  Barton  Beune 
A.M.,  M.D,  Resident  Physician  Maryland  University  Hospital,  and  H  Hoi- 
BitooK  Curtis.  Ph.  B.  With  8  Lithographic  Colored  Plates  from  Ultzmann  and 
Hoffman  s  Atlas,  and  from  Photograjihs  lurni.shed  by  Dr.  Ultzmann,  ^yh^ch  do  not 
appear  in  tbe  German  edition  or  any  other  translation.  Second  edition,  revised 
and  enlarged.    Svo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

Manual  of  Chemical  Examination  of  the  Urine  in  Disease.  AVith 
Brii't  Directions  tor  the  Examination  of  the  most  Common  Varieties  <if  Urinary 
Calculi,  and  an  Appendix  containing  a  Diet-Table  for  Diabetics.  By  Austin 
Flint,  Jr.,  M.  D.    Sixth  edition,  revised  and  corrected.     12nio.    Cloth,  $1.00. 

Lectures  on  the  Principles  of  Siirs-ery.  Delivered  at  Bellevue  Hospital. 
By  the  late  W.  II  Van  Buken,  M.D.  Edited  by  Lewis  A.  Stimson,  M  D.  Svo 
IV-5SS  pages.     Cloth,  *4.00;  sheep,  $5.00. 

Lectures  upon  Diseases  of  the  Rectum  and  the  Sure-ery  of  the 
Lower  Bowel.  Delivered  at  the  Bellevue  Hospital  Medical  College  By 
\V.  H.  Van  Buren,  A.  M.,  M.  D.,  Professor  of  the  Principles  and  Practice  of  Sur- 
gery m  the  Bellevue  Hospital  Medical  College,  etc.  Second  edition,  revised  and 
enlarged.     Svo.    With  27  Illustrations  and  complete  Index.     Cloth,  $3.00;  sheep, 

*f  4.1)0, 

°^  A*.^?.  ^d-^,'  Jaundice,  and  Bilious  Diseases.  By  J.  Wickham  Legg, 
Al.D.,  t.  K.  C.S,  Assistant  Physician  to  St.  Bartholomew's  Hospital  and  Lect- 
urer on  Patho.ogical  Anatomy  in  the  Medical  School.  With  Illustrations  in 
Chromo-hthogiaphy.     Svo.    Cloth,  $6.00 ;  sheep,  $T.00. 

Hand-Book  of  Skin  Diseases.  By  Dr.  Istdoe  Neumann,  Lecturer  on  Skin 
Diseases  in  the  Royal  University  of  Vienna.  Translated  from  the  German,  second 
edition,  with  Notes,  by  Lucius  D.  Bulkley,  A.M.,  M.D.,  Surgeon  to  the  New 
York  Dispensary.  Department  of  Venereal  and  Skin  Diseases;  Assistant  to  the 
S.  \t  '^."*  ^^^  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  New  York ;  Member  of 
the  New  lork  Dermatological  Society,  etc.  66  Woodcuts.  Svo.  Cloth,  $4.00; 
sheep,  $0.00.  ' 

A  Practical  Treatise  on  Diseases  of  the  Skin.  By  John  T.  Shoe- 
"/^f  m'  ,  ",  I'  !*•'  i'''o'essor  of  Dermatology  in  the  Medico-Chirurgical  College 
ot  l"hila:lelphia.  With  G  Chromo-lithographs  and  numerous  Engravines.  Svo 
Cloth,  $j.uO;  sheep,  $6.00.  be'" 

Manual  of  r  ermatolog-y.  By  A.  R.  Robinson.  M.  R.  L.  R.  C.  P.  and  S.  (Edin- 
burgh).    Revised  and  corrected.     Svo,  647  pages.     Cloth,  $5.00. 

^  -^P.^^^SH  Treatise  on  the  Diseases  of  Children.  By  Alfred  Vogel, 
M.  D.,  Protessor  ot  Clinical  Medicine  in  the  Univer.-itv  of  Dorpat.  Russia.  Trai;s- 
Kated  and  edited  by  H.  Raphael,  M.  D.,  formerly  House  Surgeon  to  Bellevue 
Ho? pit;il.  Third  American  from  the  eighth  German  edition,  revised  and  enlarged. 
Illustrated  by  6  Lithographic  Plates.     1  vol.,  svo,  xii-640  pages.     Cloth,  $4.50; 


IMPORTANT  MEDICAL  BOOKS.  23 

Compendium  of  Children's  Diseases.  A  TIand-Book  for  Practitioners  and 
Students.  By  Dr.  .Idii.vNN  Stki.\i:i:.  I'role.^sor  of  the  Diseases  of  CliilUren  in  tlie 
University  of  I'nigue,  and  Pliy.-ieian  to  tlie  l-'raneis-Joseph  Hospital  for  Siclc  i  hil- 
dren.  Translated  from  the  second  (lernian  edition  by  Lawson  Tait.  F.  K.  C.8., 
Sur  ■eon  to  the  Birnun-ham  IJospital  for  Women  ;  Cousulting  Surgeon  to  the 
West  Bromwich  Hospiial,  etc.     bvo.    Cloth,  $3.50;  sheep,  $4.6u. 

General  Surgical  Patholog'y  and  Therapeutics,  in  Fifty  one  Lectures. 
A  Text-Hook  for  Students  and  f'liysicians.  By  Ur.  Theohok  Billroth,  Professor 
of  Surgery  in  Vienna.  Iranslatecl  by  Chaklks  K.  Hackley,  A  M.,  M.  D.,  Physi- 
cian to'^the  New  Yorli  Hospital;  Fellow  of  the  New  York  Academy  of  Medicine. 
8vo.     Cloth,  $5.00;  sheep,  $01)0. 

A  Manual  of  Operative  Surgery.  By  Joskph  D.  Bryant.  M.  D.,  Professor 
of  Anatomy  and  Clinical  Surgery,  and  Associate  Professor  of  Orthopaedic  Surgery 
in  Bellevue"  Hospital  Medical  Colleire ;  Visiting  Surgeon  to  Belli'\ue  Ho.'pital,  and 
Consulting  Surgeon  to  the  New  York  Lunatic  Asylum  and  the  Out-Door  Depart- 
ment of  Belleviie  Hospital.  New  edition,  revised  and  enlarged.  With  793  Illus- 
trations.   8vo,  530  pages.     Cloth,  |5.00 ;  sheep,  |G.OO. 

A  Text-Book  on  Surgery:  General.  Operative,  and  Mechanical.  By  John  A. 
Wyeth.  .M.D..  Professor  of  Surgery  in  the  :^ew  York  Polyclinic;  Surgeon  to 
Moujit  Sinai  Hospital,  etc.  With  771  Illustiations,  about  r,0  of  them  colored.  8vo. 
Sold  by  subscription  only.  Buckram,  uncut  edges,  $7.UU;  sheep,  $8.00;  half 
morocco,  $8.50. 

The  Rules  of  Aseptic  and  Antiseptic  Surgery.  A  Practical  Treatise 
for  the  Use  of  Students  and  the  Gener.al  Practitioner.  By  Arpad  G.  GEESTEn, 
M.  D.,  Professor  of  Surgery  at  the  New  York  Polyclinic;  Visiting  Surgeon  to  the 
German  Hospital  and  to  Mount  Sinai  Hospital,  New  York.  Illustrated  with  over 
200  Fiue  Engravings,    Svo.     Cloth,  $5.00 ;  sheep,  $6.00. 

Operative  Sur.g'ery  on  the  Cadaver.  By  Jasper  Jewett  Garmany,  A.  M., 
.M  D.,  V .  K.  0.  S.,  Attending  Surgeon  to  Out-Door  Poor  Dispensary  of  Bellevue 
Hosi>ital;  Visiting  Surgeon  to  Ninety -ninth  Street  Reception  Hospital;  Member 
of  the  British  Medical  Association,  etc.  With  2  Colored  Biagrams  showing  the 
Collateral  Circulation  after  Ligatures  of  .\rteries  of  Arm,  Abdomen,  and  Lower 
Extremity.     Small  Svo,  150  pages.    Cloth,  .$2.00. 

A  Treatise  on  Oral  Deformities,  as  a  Branch  of  ^fechnnical  Sursrerv.  Bv 
NoKMAN  W.  Kingslky.  M.  D.  S  ,  D.  D.  S.,  President  of  the  Board  of  Censors  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  late  Dean  of  the  New  Y'ork  College  of  Dentistry  and 
Professor  of  Dental  Art  and  Mechanism.  Member  of  the  American  .\cadeiny  of 
Dental  Science,  etc.  With  over  350  Illustrations.  Svo.  Cloth,  $5.00;  sheep, 
$6.00. 

Contributions  to  Reparative  Surgery,  showing  its  Application  to  the 
Treatment  of  Deformities,  produced  by  Destructive  Disease  or  injury;  Con- 
genital Defects  from  Arrest  or  K.xcess  of  Development;  and  Cicatricial  Contrac- 
tions following  Burns  Illustrated  by  30  Cases  and  fine  Engravings.  By  Gukdon 
Buck,  M.  D.     bvo.     Cloth,  $3.0il. 

Diagnosis  and  Treatment  of  diseases  of  the  Ear.  By  O.  D.  Pomeroy, 
M.  D.,  Surgeon  to  the  Manhattan  Eye  .and  Ear  Hospital,  etc.  With  100  Illustra- 
tions.    New  edition,  revised  and  enlarged.    Svo.     Cloth,  $3.00. 

A  Hand-Book  of  the  Diseases  of  the  Eye  and  the^'r  Treatment. 
By  IIenuy  K.  Swanzy,  A.  .M..  M.  B  ,  F.  P.  C  S.  I ,  Surgeon  of  the  National  Eye 
and  Ear  Infirmary,  formerly  assistant  to  the  late  f'rofessor  A.  von  Graefe,  Berlin. 
AVith  Illustrations.     12mo,  xv-437  pages.    Cloth,  $3.00. 

A  Text-Book  of  Ophthalmoscopy.  By  Epward  G.  Lorino.  M  D.  Part 
I  — The  Normal  Eye,  Determination  of  Itefraction  and  Diseases  of  t.'ie  Media, 
Physiological  Oi)tics.  and  Theory  of  the  Oplithalinosrope.  Svo.  2(17  pages.  With 
131  Illustrations,  and  4  Chromo-lithograph  Plates,  containing  14  Figures.  Cloth, 
$5.00. 


24  IMPORTANT  MEDICAL  BOOKS. 

Diseases  of  the  Heart  and  Thoracic  Aorta.  By  Bteon  Bkamwell, 
Al.  !>.,  F.  K.  C.  P.  E.,  Lecturer  on  tbe  i^rinciples  and  J'ractlce  of  Medicine,  and  on 
Practical  Medicine  and  Medical  Uiaiinosis.  in  the  E.xtra-Academical  School  of 
Medicine,  Edinburgh,  etc.,  etc.  With  2^(5  Wood  Engravings  and  6S  Lithograph 
Plates,  showing  yi  Figures— in  ail  317  lUuitrations.  8vo,  7s3  pages.  Cloth,  $8.00; 
sheep,  .$J.bO. 

A  Treatise  on  Diseases  of  the  Bones  By  Thomas  M.  Markok,  M.  D., 
I'roiessor  of  ^u^gery  in  the  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  New  York,  etc. 
With  numerous  Illustrations,     bvo.     Cloth,  -i-l.&U. 

Medical  and  Surgical  Aspects  of  In-Knee  (GENtr-VALGTrii):  Its  Rela- 
tion to  Rickets;  its  Previntion ;  and  its  Treatment,  with  or  without  Si;rgical 
Operation.  By  ',V  .  J.  Liitle,  M.  U.,  F.  K.  C.  P.,  late  Senior  Physician  to  and  Lect- 
urer on  Medicine  at  the  London  Hospital;  "Visiting  Physician  to  tbe  Infant  Or- 
phan Asylum  at  Waustsad;  the  Earlswood  Asylum  for  Idiots;  Founder  of  the 
Koyal  Orthopaedic  Hospital,  etc.  Assisted  by  E.  Muirheap  Little,  T.L  i\.  C.  S. 
One  Svo  volume,  containing  101  pages,  with  complete  Index,  and  illustrated  by 
upward  of  oO  Figures  and  Diagrams.     $2.00. 

Xiectures  on  Orthopedic  Surg'ery  and  Diseases  of  the  Joints.    De- 

li\ered  at  Bellevue  Hospital  Medical  College  during  the  AVinter  Session  of  1S74- 
'7.^.  By  Lewis  A.  Satre,  M.  D.,  Professor  of  Orthopedic  Surgery,  Fractures  and 
Dislocations,  and  Clinical  Surgerj',  in  Bellevue  Hospital  Medical  College,  etc. 
With  3.'-l  Engravings  on  W'ool.  Second  edition,  revised  and  greatly  enlarged. 
Svo.     Cloth,  $5.U0;  sht'ep,  $(J.tU. 

Osteotomy  and  Osteoclasia  for  Deformities  of  the  Lower  Ex- 
tremities. 3y  CiiARLFS  T.  PooRE.  M.  D  ,  Surireon  to  St.  Mary's  Free  Hospital 
for  Children,  New  York ;  Member  of  the  New  Y'ork  Surgical  Society,  etc.  svo, 
2d2  pages.     With  Illustrations.    Cloth,  .$2.50. 

A  Practical  Manual  on  the  Treatment  of  Club-Foot.  By  Lewis  A. 
Sayre,  M.  D.     Fom-th  edition,  enlarged  and  corrected.    Illustrated.    ]2mo.    Cloth, 

$1.2.5. 

The  Comparative  Anatomy  of  the  Dcmpsticated  Animals.    By  A. 

Chafveatt.  Professor  at  the  Lvons  Velerinary  School.  New  edition,  revised  ana 
enlarged  \vith  the  Co-operation  of  S.  Akloing,  late  Principal  of  Anatomy  at  the 
Lvons  Veterinary  School.  Translated  and  edited  by  James  Feeminu.  With  450 
Illustrations.     8vo.     Cljth,  $0.00. 

Em.Ta"=n'^ie3,  and  How  to  Treat  them.  The  Etiology,  Pathology,  and 
Treatment  of  Accidents.  Diseases,  and  «  ases  of  Poisoning,  which  demand  Prompt 
Action.  Desitrned  for  Students  and  Practitioners  of  Medicii;e.  By  Joseph  W. 
HiwR.  M. D.  (linical  Professor  of  Surgery  in  the  Medical  Department  of  the 
University  of  New  York,  etc.     Third  edition.     Svo.     Cloth,  $2.50. 

Hand-'Pook  of  Historical  and  Geog-raphical  Phthisioloffy,  with 
Special  Reference  to  the  Distribution  of  Consumption  in  the  United  States,  ay 
George  A.  Evans,  M.  D.     r2mo.     Cloth,  $2.00. 

On  the  Tre'itment  of  Pulmonary  Con'STimntion,  by  Hygiene,  Climate, 
and  .\iedicinc.  in  its  Connection  with  Modern  Doctrines.  By  James  Henry  Ben- 
net,  M.  D.     Svo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

Exnloration  of  the  Chest  in  Health  and  Disease.  By  Stephen 
Smith  Bpht.  M.  D..  Professor  of  Clinical  Medicine,  etc.,  in  the  New  lork  Post- 
Graduate  Medical  School  and  Hospital,  etc.     r2mo. 

The  Curibilitv  and  Treatment  of  Pulmonnry  Phthisis.  By  S.  Jac- 
coup.  Professor  of  Medical  Pathology  to  the  Facultv  of  Paris.  Translated  and 
edited  by  Montagu  LttBnooK.  M.  D.  (London  and  Paris),  M.  R.  C.  P.  (England), 
etc.     8v6,  407  pages.    Cloth,  $4.00. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  k  CO.,  Publishers,  1,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


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